Walking the Beach

by Stacatto

Copyright© 2010 by Stacatto

Romantic Sex Story: The beach was deserted and lonely, the sand cold and damp. Even the waves looked frigid as they broke across the dark, hard packed sand. What happens next changes a young mans outlook on life, and love.

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

The beach was deserted and lonely, the sand cold and damp. Even the waves looked frigid as they broke across the dark, hard packed sand. The skies were slate grey with low clouds scudding across the horizon and my footprints were the only ones in the sand; solitary dents trailing behind me as I trudged along. The winter wind was brisk, tearing at my clothing, seeking for any gaps between my coat and my body so it could whisk away what little warmth was trapped inside. I leaned forward a bit, struggling to keep moving down the beach while the wind kept pushing me backwards. The day seemed to fit my mood; cold and bitter; my three dogs didn't seem to care one bit however. My dogs were off exploring through the driftwood, searching for anything brought in by the last high tide, happy to be out and free.

I stopped and stared across the bay. The blustery weather had whipped up the waves so they were covered with white caps, which then crashed onto the beach, sending up long rushing tentacles of water. I remembered the last time I walked this portion of the beach. The weather was a lot different that day. The day was hot and the breeze warm, soft and gentle and the waves only patted gently onto the shore.

She was with me that day. We'd held hands as we walked down the beach; so much in love, or at least I thought so. She was my first, not the woman I gave my virginity to, but rather she was the first one who really captured my heart and soul. All my life I've been shy, some even call me a nerd, and she was so totally different from me. She was my wild child and I adored her difference.

She left me at the end of last summer. We'd met for dinner at one of our favorite spots and over dinner she told me she needed to move on. She told me she still cared for me, but not in the same ways I cared about her. She asked me not to call her anymore and if things changed for her, she would call me. When she finished with her little speech, she stood and before I could even stand, she left the restaurant and my life. It still hurt me more than I cared to think about and to help deal with it; here I was, walking the cold and lonely beach trying to forget.

The rain started to fall harder than before; all day it had been sprinkling but now the rain poured from of the skies. The dogs didn't seem to care and neither did I. I couldn't tel1 if there were tears or raindrops on my cheeks. Mentally I kept going over everything I'd done or said when we were together. What had I done wrong? What had I done? We seemed so happy for the few months we were together and then without any warning, that dinner and I was left with a broken heart.

I continued to walk, rain and tears streaming down my face. I paid no attention to where I headed; I just trudged down the breach; my hands pushed deep into my pockets, staring down at the sand. Finally, as I staggered down the beach still pushing against the wind and rain, it dawned on me there was another set of footprints in the sand in front of me. I stopped and looked down in disbelief. Who would be out on a day like this? What other fool was on this isolated beach? I looked up and far ahead, I saw a small figure moving, head down against the wind forging ahead just as I was.

As if I'd made some unheard communication with the dogs, they all looked up at the same time and noticed the figure far ahead. I hollered at them to stop, but they paid me no heed and took off running towards the person. A new person to explore, perhaps even a new person who would pet them and give them the attention they felt they always deserved.

The wind was blowing so hard it was difficult to try to run; I wanted to catch up; I really didn't want the dogs to bother anybody. The dogs are very friendly, but there are those who don't care for animals and I try to respect that. I will admit, I don't understand their feelings, but I still respect those feelings and I try to keep my dogs corralled and away from them. As the dogs gambled around the person ahead, the figure stopped, and then stooped over to pet the three dogs dancing around their feet. By the time I caught up to the four of them, the person had lifted their head and was looking for the dogs' owner.

When I approached, the person stood and I started to apologize. "I am so sorry my dogs bothered you. Please forgive. I know I should have them on a leash and all..." my voice trailed off as I realized the figure who had been kneeling before me was a woman. A striking woman from what I could tell, but it was difficult to know for sure with her cheeks red from the cold and bundled up in a large parka. I thought she might be older than me, but that was also difficult to discern. I noticed her face was wet but I didn't know if the moisture on her face was rain or tears. I thought she looked like she'd been crying, but due to the weather, any guess was challenging. She held up her hand to stop my babbling, "Stop! I adore dogs. In addition, yours are really good looking. I have always had a weakness for Cocker Spaniels and the color of that one," she pointed at the darker chocolate brown female, "is very unique. I don't think I have ever seen one that color."

I introduced her to my brood and she stooped and petted them once more. As she petted them, she looked up at me and I felt somewhat intimidated by her beauty. Looking down into her face, I thought about my fateful dinner when I had felt no female would ever look desirable again; even though I felt she was older than I was, this woman was so attractive I could feel my resolve starting to weaken. As usual, I reverted to my old nerd self and asked, "Pardon my asking, but what are you doing out here on a day like this?"

She smiled up at me slightly, "I could ask you the same question."

"Well, I was walking my dogs, and," I paused.

"And what," she spoke up, staring up at me for a few moments, "looking at your face, I think there's more. What's wrong?"

This woman was blunt and to the point and her question tore away any reserve I had. I couldn't believe it but the tears began to stream down my face once more. I thought I had my emotions better under control and I quickly turned my back to her out of embarrassment, not wanting her to see me cry. She stood up and I felt her tugging at my sleeve. When I turned to look back at her, she comforted me, "Hey! Hey, it's OK. I'm sorry. I didn't wish to pry." There was a long pause as she examined my face. Finally she said, "If you want, you can talk to me. I listen very well."

I could only shake my head; my feelings were just too close to the surface to try to speak. She seemed to look at me for another moment as if she was trying to make up her mind about something. She then turned around and started to walk back the way we had both just come. I stood there watching her walk away, not really knowing what to do. Finally, she stopped and turned, "Come on - let me buy you a cup of coffee."

I hurried to catch up, we trudged along in silence, the dogs running ahead, and then charging back to see what was taking so long. Finally, we reached a series of low dunes and she walked around the end of one. Behind the dunes were half a dozen very attractive cabins nestled securely. Two of the cabins were more than one story tall and one of those cabins had smoke curling out of the chimney.

She opened the back door of the cabin with the smoke coming out of the stack and we stepped into an extra large laundry room, which looked like it also doubled as a mudroom, complete with the largest 2-basin sink I'd ever seen. Across the back wall were stars leading to the upper levels of the cabin. She slipped off her parka and hung it up on a hook. She motioned for me to do the same and then she leaned down and picked up one of the dogs, went to the sink, turned on the water and checked to see the temperature. Once she was satisfied, she started to rinse off each paw, making sure to get as much sand as she could from between their paws After all three were washed off, she handed me a towel and picked up another towel. Smiling at me, she told me, "Dry the dog's paws and their tummies."

I took the male, buff colored dog, 'Latte' while she took 'Mocha', the female, and we started to wipe them down. When we were done with the two of them, we both worked on Samantha's paws and tummy. Once we had them all cleaned up they ran around the room shaking and fluffing up their coats.

She turned to me with a smile and asked, "Ready to go upstairs?"

I felt like an idiot, as all I could do was stand there and stare. This woman was incredibly good-looking. It was my first opportunity to look at her without her hat and parka and I was stunned. As I said, all of my life I've been very shy and this woman, I could see, was way out of my league. Back in school, she would have been a fantasy; the girl I wanted but knew would never give me the time of day.

I have never cared for red headed woman, but this time I felt I could make an exception. Her hair was long with a deep rich chestnut color. She had high cheekbones and her eyes were like the green grass under a shady summer tree. I was mesmerized by the depth of her green eyes. As I continued to stare at her, she turned a little red and asked me what was wrong. I quickly apologized and motioned for her to lead up the stairs.

She turned and started up the set of stairs with the dogs bounding up ahead of her. At the top of the stairs, we came to a landing where she opened a door and we entered a very large room which took up nearly the entire second floor. The room was very attractive. In one corner was the kitchen with a counter along one side to separate the kitchen from a dinning area. Across the entire front of the building were large windows going from floor to ceiling, with a sliding glass door in the center, which led out onto a massive deck extending towards the water. There were magnificent water views from all of the windows.

The tall ceiling was exposed beams and along the wall opposite the kitchen was a beautiful stone fireplace with a crackling fire inside. In front of the fireplace a couple of large, very comfortable looking, leather couches sat facing the fire and in the opposite corner were two very large over stuffed chairs sat facing the water. Even though the room was large with a commanding view of the water, the furnishings and arrangement made it comfortable and intimate. After being out in the cold, the warmth felt great. She motioned for me to sit at a counter.

"Do you want coffee or tea?" She asked.

"I'll have whatever you are going to have. I really don't want to put you out." While I paused trying to phrase my next comment, she went to one of the cupboards and took down a box of dog treats. She took out three and made each dog sit before she gave them their bone. Finally, I continued, "Please don't take this wrong, but what are you doing bringing a total stranger into your home?"

She smiled warmly at me, "Oh, but you are not a stranger. I saw how you and your dogs inter-acted, that can't be faked; it is obvious they adore you. And I don't think your tears be faked either." She paused and I felt she was looking into my soul. "You want to tell me what that's all about?"

I took a chance on what I thought I had seen out on the beach, "Sure, it you tell me what yours was all about."

Her face visibly saddened and I watched as she took a deep breath. "How did you know?"

My voice was almost a whisper, "There's a big difference between red eyes and tears and wind with rain drops." Her brief smile was bitter sweet and she then hung her head. Finally, when she lifted her head I noticed a tear in each eye as she looked at me, "It would appear that both of us need somebody to talk to."

While she made us something to drink, instead of sitting at the counter, I walked over to the front windows and stared out across the bay. Even on this dark, cold dreary day, the view was incredible. I watched the white caps and the surf pounding onto the beach beyond the dunes while out in the straights there was a large container ship barging its way through the heavy swells, occasionally a large wave would sweep over the bow of the ship and the water would wash back over the bucking boat.

She handed me a cup of hot chocolate with some miniature marshmallows floating on top. I looked up at her and she smiled. Her smile was dazzling as lit up her face. "I really like hot chocolate on days like this; I took a chance that you might like some too." She told me.

"I can't recall the last time I had some; the marshmallows are a nice touch."

She motioned for me to sit in one of the large overstuffed chairs that looked out towards the water. After we were curled up, each of us in a chair, she said, "By the way, my name is Heather. I guess we skipped over that part." Again, I was favored with that sweet smile of hers.

"My name is Sidney, Sid for short and I have to tell you, I have never cared for the name. I've always wished I'd a more masculine name."

"Sidney, humm. You are the first man named Sidney I have ever met. And I will call you Sid if you desire." I smiled at her. "As for picking up strangers," she paused and gave me that melancholy smile of hers, "I guess I am finally ready to talk to somebody. I find it difficult to share too much with people I know really well; but it's like with a stranger there is still some distance? Perhaps it would be easier to talk to you. Anyway, why were you walking down the beach on a day like this, crying?"

I was a bit taken aback with her directness, "You don't mess around do you?" She smiled again.

"Do you need a bunch of small talk?" I shook my head, no. "I didn't think so, you looked very sad out there and I felt you needed a shoulder to cry on; somebody to talk to?"

I took a deep breath and started, "OK! The last time I was on that stretch of beach I was with a lady; a lady I thought I loved very much." I don't know if it was because this lovely woman sitting with me was older than I was, or if it was just her easy manner that helped me open up, but I found myself sharing with her far more than I normally would tell a stranger. I continued, "All of my life I've been really shy - a book worm - a nerd." I hung my head with that admission.

Heather leaned over and patted the top of my hand, "But you are a handsome nerd," and even though we both laughed I was a little embarrassed.

"I have never felt really comfortable with women. They frighten me..."

Heather interrupted. "Do I?"

I answered quickly, "No, even though you are exquisite and so far out of my league, for some reason I feel comfortable with you." Heather's smile was warm and it made me feel good. "Anyway, my lady friend was so different from me and I thought I was so much in love with her. She broke up with me a couple of months ago and I have been having a very difficult time getting over it. As I walked down the beach today, I was remembering the last time we were here and the way she broke up with me. I guess I was just having a pity party for myself and the weather seemed to fit my mood."

I paused a moment and she commented, "Thank you for sharing. I could tell it was difficult for you to tell me." Her hand rested in my arm and she gave it a squeeze. "I am sorry." She told me.

I wondered if I wanted to ask her about her problems. Since she had been direct with me I felt I could do the same, "I also noticed that you seem to be rather sad as well out there. Care to tell me about it?"

She sat there for a long time, staring out across the water. Finally, she took a deep breath and then looked over at me, "Almost a year ago my husband died of cancer," she paused, "I still cannot believe how much it has affected me. I'm broken hearted to say the least. He left me very well off so I don't have to worry about money. Anyway, I decided to come over here to the island and I have been hiding out here ever since. I walk a lot on the beach, I don't really care what the weather is like; I just walk a lot ... and cry a lot. I haven't wanted any people around me; I just wanted to keep my sorrow to myself." She smiled slightly as she continued, "When you walked up to me today, you were perhaps the first person I've truly spoken to on more than a superficial level in a long time. Your dogs were so darling; they just made me smile and feel better inside. When I saw you, because of the dogs, I felt safe talking with you."

Heather looked at the dogs curled up on a rug in front of the fireplace. "Anyway, as I spoke to you out on the beach, for the first time I saw pain and suffering in another person and you made me realize other people have reasons to be sad too and that I really needed to deal with my feelings. When I asked you what was wrong and you started to cry..." When she said that I quickly turned my head in embarrassment, "Stop!" She said with a strong voice. "Do not turn your head away. When you started to cry, you showed me true feelings; you showed me you cared about something so much it hurt and it still made you cry. Do not be ashamed of something that real - besides, in that moment, I related to somebody in ways I haven't in a long time. You helped me see I was not alone; you made me see other people have pain. I don't really know how to put it into words, but in just those few seconds, things changed out there on the beach. Your pain seemed to lessen my pain. I know, it may not make sense to you, but it does to me."

I turned back to look out across the water. It was growing dark outside and I could hear the wind howling through the trees and around the eves of the cabin. The fire popped in the fireplace, the entire room felt so safe and comfortable from the storm raging outside.

Without turning to look at her, my voice whispered, "She was such a free spirit. I think I knew all along it was not going to be a very long relationship. What is the old analogy ... a butterfly has to be free and all that? I see now I never really had her; she was just there for a moment and then flew away. I don't know if I am so sad because she was the first to have my heart, or if because it was so brief, or because of the way she left me or because I felt so abandoned." I turned and looked at her shadow in the dark, "Anyway, how long was your husband sick before he ... ah..."

"Died? You can say the word. It's strange how people are so careful when they talk to me. It's as if they think I am not aware John is dead. Do they think I just believe he went to the store and will be right back? I guess one of the reasons I came here to hide was to get away from others."

There was another long pause as she stirred her cup, then she took a deep sigh and told me, "You know, I have been thinking for a few days now that something was going to happen and things were about to change. You are the first person I have even spoken to in about three weeks. I was thinking about that fact this morning; the last time I had a conversation with somebody. It was as if I knew you were going to show up." Heather turned her head to look out across the darkened water. She continued, "Anyway, John was sick a very short time. By the time the cancer was discovered it was too late. Between the time we knew and when he died was about five months. We were married for sixteen years. I met him my senior year in college, he was a grad student and we got married the summer I graduated."

Heather started to tell me how they had met and where they went on their first date, then their honeymoon; just covering their life for the past sixteen years. I sat and listened, feeling she had so much to share, so much to get off her mind. I suppose in a way she was using me, I was her "core dump". She was unloading all of the things she'd been mulling over in her head for the past year and I was the person she chose to listen to her confessions. I was pleased she trusted me enough to share all that she did. Some times her voice was angry; her anger about being left alone and how she felt it was so unfair he was taken from her. At other times her voice was soft as she showed her grief and sadness over the loss of her loved one.

Finally, Heather stopped talking and sat again for a long time stirring her empty cup, looking out the window; it was as if her confession had used up everything she wanted to say. I glanced at the fire and noticed the dogs were still asleep on the rug in front of it. The fire was down to some glowing embers so I went over to put on a couple of logs. Once the fire was going again, I returned to my chair. The chair was so comfortable, the room felt so safe and warm, and for the first time in several weeks, I felt so at peace.

"Heather?" I asked softly.

"Yes?" I saw her turn to face me.

"I just wanted to thank you."

I was aware she was staring at me, "Huh? For what?"

"For being so trusting; for bringing me into your home. For asking me what was wrong; for sharing yourself with me; just for everything. Right now, I am more at peace, more content than I have been in a long time. I thank you for that. In this short time, you've made me feel better than I have in," I paused for a second, "well, a few months at least. Thank you."

Her next move surprised me; she leaned over and put her hand on top of my arm. As she squeezed it, she said, "Then I owe you a thank you as well. I am still sad that John is gone. But when I see how you feel, I realized at least I had some time to get used to the idea I was gong to be alone. You went out for dinner, probably thinking you were going to have some fun later that evening," Heather actually giggled when she said that, "and she just ups and leaves you; no time to get used to the idea at all. I guess your story has put things into perspective?"

"I just lost a girl friend, a short term one at that; and it sounds like you lost a lot more?"

"Perhaps; but like I said, you have helped."

For a long time we sat there in our chairs, in the dark, staring out at the dark bay. The rain stopped but the wind still moved the clouds briskly across the skies. Then, as if by magic, a three quarters moon peeked out from behind a cloud, only to slip behind the next swiftly moving cloud. We watched for several minutes as the moon played hide-n-seek behind the clouds. When the moon was shinning, it reflected off the water, making the white caped waves appear silver tipped. It was a stunningly gorgeous effect. I noticed Heathers hand was still on my arm so I reached over and patted it with my other hand. "I am sorry to break the mood, but I have to catch a ferry and get home."

Heather seemed to be trying to say something. Finally I asked, "What? I can see you have something to say,"

"OK. I can't believe I am saying this, but I want you to stay - I would love for you to stay - but you are correct, you need to go home. However; finally, I find I want to be with somebody, but you need to go home. However, would you do me the favor of coming back this Friday evening and let me prepare you dinner? OH; and please bring the dogs."

"What? You want me to come to dinner?"

"Yes; or do you feel it would interfere with the memories of your past ... love?" The last word had been spoken after a long pause.

"No. I would love to come to dinner. For the first time I want to spend some time with a woman; a beautiful woman." Suddenly I blushed at what I had said. "Oh God, I can not believe I just said that."

"OK! How about this; for the first time in a long time I want to spend time with a man, a very dashing man. There! We are even." And she laughed. "Where is your car parked?" I explained where I was at and she told me she would drive me to my vehicle since it was quite a distance away.

We went downstairs, bundled up, and went out to her car. Lucky it was a mini-van so my dogs didn't have to sit on her upholstery. When we got to my car, I transferred the dogs and started to open the driver's door. I noticed that Heather was standing in front of her van so I walked over and held out my arms. "Hug?"

She stepped into my arms and then slipped her arms around me. She hugged me tightly and I returned with the same pressure. Without breaking her hold on me, she leaned back and looked up at me, "Thank you Sid. This evening was a real eye opener for me. I will see you Friday evening."

"Good night Heather," and l leaned down and kissed her forehead. One more squeeze and we parted ways.

Even though I didn't drive fast, I lucked out and just made the next ferry back to the main land. After I was parked on the boat, I settled back and started thinking over the past afternoon and evening. Out of the blue it struck me; I had no idea what her body looked like. I remembered a beautiful face, a dark sweatshirt and dark pants, but I never did check her out to see body size or any thing else that guys normally look at. I was still pondering the meaning of that, something so unlike myself as I pulled into my garage.

I'd planned to give the dogs a bath to wash off the salt water when I got home, but I was just too tired to deal with it. Instead I went through my nighttime ablution and crawled into bed. The next thing I knew it was morning. I'd been so tired I was sure I hadn't moved all night as I was in the same position as I'd fallen to sleep. Last night was the first night I'd been able to sleep through the entire night in a very long time. I didn't know if it was because of the long walk on the beach, or if my mind was finally at peace with the break up.

The next few days flew by and it was Friday; time to head back to the island. I knew ferry traffic on Fridays' could be a bear so I decided not to go to the office that day. One of the few benefits of being self employed is you get to choose what hours you want to work - true, they are 60 hour weeks, but I get to choose what 60 hours I want to work. I caught a mid-afternoon ferry while the traffic was slow and I was able to drive right on the ferry with very little wait. I decided I would let the dogs run awhile to kill some time before I went to Heather's cabin.

Actually, the word cabin did not really do her place justice. The cabin was beautiful and more like a home. I went to the beach and sat on a log while I watched the dogs chase birds down the beach, climbing over logs and just having a great time. I was happy and it surprised me how cheerful I felt. I thought Heather was pleased she shared herself with me the other night; I knew I defiantly felt better now I'd gotten my feelings off my chest. I decided to drive up to the general store and purchase a couple of bottles of wine and some flowers so I wouldn't show up empty handed. There was an excellent selection of wines and I selected two wines I recognized and a large bunch of flowers. As I stood in line, I heard a voice behind me, "Hello Sid. A bit early aren't you?"

I turned and there stood Heather with a shopping basket of food. I laughed, "Well considering that evenings and especially Friday afternoons the ferries tend to get really backed-up, I decided to take an early one and let the dogs run the beach. I didn't want to be late for dinner." Which I followed with a huge grin.

She smiled at my explanation, "Good thinking, you did exactly the right thing. If that wine is for tonight, you really don't need to do that you know."

As I glanced down at her basket she blushed. "Okay, maybe you did need to. As for this, I opened my cupboards and realized I didn't have anything there to make a company dinner with so here I am." She hastily explained. "It didn't matter before now, as I cooked only for me and very little at that. But I'm really glad to have a reason to cook for someone else."

I paid for my purchase and waited for her to complete her transaction. As we walked to our cars in the parking lot she asked, "Where are you going now? You have a couple of hours to kill before dinner time."

"I don't know." I replied. "I guess I'll just go back to the beach and walk the dogs for a while."

Heather asked, "Can you follow me home, and let me put away what I have here? I would like to walk with you; if that is ok?"

Happily I replied, "That would be wonderful! Definitely more that OK."

We drove to her home and after the groceries were stored, we slipped on our jackets and headed down the beach. The dogs took off on a dead run until they were just three little spots on the horizon. As we walked, Heather reached over and took my hand and we continued to walk down the beach holding hands. In many ways, it reminded me of when I had walked the beach with my past love, but today there was a totally different feeling. Today there was a sense of contentment and happiness. Also, today there was no pain.

"I cannot believe the past few days. For the first time in over a year, I am content with my life." Heather told me.

"Well, since we are sharing, since I left you the other evening, I haven't thought once of Cheryl, that was the woman who ... ah..."

"I know, broke your heart?" She smiled at me.

I had to laugh at the way she had put it. "I guess you could put it that way."

Heather glanced sideways over at me and asked, "And why have you forgotten about Cheryl?"

I could see no reason to play games with this lovely lady. "I wouldn't say forgotten, let's say I put her in a better perspective; and the reason is I have thought a lot about you." Heather squeezed my hand, "I thought about you out here alone - brooding - such a dazzling woman just pining away. I felt it wasn't healthy and all," Another squeeze of my hand. "And instead of feeling sorry for myself, I felt sorry for you and that you were out here alone, well ... just..." my voice trailed off to an embarrassed silence.

She smiled at me, "Thanks. The funny thing is when I thought of John the past couple of days, I then would think of you. I had my chance to say good by to John and we knew it was going to end. Yours was so sudden and I felt," there was a slight pause, "how did you put it, sorry?"

My next comment was something I would never had said to any woman I had known for such a short time. "It would seem that we are good for each other?" Again, she squeezed my hand and then pulled me towards her so she could hold my arm. We continued to walk and talk about various things. We found we had a lot in common; we shared the same taste in music, liked some of the same authors, both like opera and both hated ballet. Finally, I felt comfortable asking her, "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?"

Heather gave a short laugh as she released my arm and stepped away from me. She held her arms away from her body a little and asked, "How old do you think I am?"

I put both hands in front of my body as if to ward off an attack. "No way! Any answer to that can get me in a lot of trouble!" I teased back.

Heather giggled and then smiled, "No really, I am curious. I feel older than dirt after the past year and I can't help but wonder what you think."

We had stopped walking and I continued to look at her face. I stared into her beautiful deep green eyes. There were a few wrinkles around the eyes, but considering the sadness of the last year, I could understand. I thought her face truly was something of beauty. "Well, the most difficult part I have is getting over how breathtaking you are," Her smile was great. "But I'm guessing because you said you had been married for 16 years and you got married right out of college. Simple math makes it between 38 and 40." I paused and gave her my best grin, "However I think you look like mid 20's."

She gave a hearty laugh as she retorted, "You do think fast on your feet. I don't know about the mid 20's, but you are correct, I am 39." She punched my lightly in the chest, "Mid 20's! You sure know how to make a girl feel good. And since you asked, I get to ask, how old are you?"

"My birthday is the end of May and after that I will no longer be trustworthy, I will be 30." I considered my next question very carefully, "Does the difference in our ages bother you?"

"To be honest, I don't give a shit. How about that?" I laughed at her comment. "On the beach the other day you showed concern for my well being. You listened to me and then you opened up your heart to me. I never really noticed there was an age difference until you just brought it up now." She paused and looked at me carefully, "Why, does it bother you?"

I gave my answer some thought. "Well, as I have told you, I have always been shy and never have felt comfortable around beautiful women." This comment drew a long, firm squeeze of my hand, "and normally I would find it very difficult to talk to you. Actually if the truth be known, if I had seen you without the parka and your eyes all red and all, I don't know if I would have ever spoken to you. I can't tell if it is because you are a little bit older than me, or if it was the way we met, or..." I shrugged my shoulders and continued, "but I do feel comfortable with you, and your age really doesn't matter. And best of all for me, even though you are so good looking, I seem to have no problem talking to you."

We noticed the sun was close to disappearing and soon it would start to get dark. Without realizing it, we had walked a long way. As we turned around and started to walk, Heather asked, "Aren't you going to call the dogs?"

"Don't need to! When they see we are walking away from them, they will be here in a second." As if they had heard me, they went running past us headed back down the way we had just come. When we got to the cabin all three dogs were pawing at the back door to be let in. Once again we washed off the dog's feet and dried them as much as they would let us. As we walked up the stairs, this time I took a long look at the shapely bottom swaying in front of me. "Very nice," I thought, "very nice indeed." Nice and round with a lovely sway as she climbed the stairs; my only regret was there weren't more stairs. I thought Heather's bottom was just as magnificent as her face.

Heather asked me if I would like a drink and I asked her if she had any Scotch. She had a couple of different brands and I settled for Oban, the one I knew. After she had made my drink, she insisted that I go and sit in one of the easy chairs. I put my feet up on the ottoman and nursed my drink, looking out over the water watching the feeble sun slipping behind the mountains in the distance. I felt life at that moment was great. The room smelled like cooking food, I had a wonderful scotch in my hand and the setting sun really helped set the mood. I called over my shoulder, "Can I help you in anyway?"

"No! I'm having fun, I haven't cooked in so long. I'm having a great time in here." Samantha had come over to me and crawled up on my lap. She loves to lie on my outstretched legs and sleep so in short order she was snoring away.

Heather called from the kitchen, "I am getting warm in here cooking; excuse me for a second. I am going to slip into something a bit more comfortable to cook in."

I couldn't help but grin to myself. I was sure she meant nothing sexual by her comment, but the old line from so many movies about "slipping into some thing more comfortable" went through my nasty little mind. When Heather returned, I was floored; her top was a low-cut, scoop neck affair, which showed a generous amount of cleavage. If possible, her pants were even more interesting. They were made of a material I'd never seen before and even though her pants were not very tight, they seemed to move as if they were a part of her.

Even though her pants were an excellent fit, they yet seemed to cling to her like second skin, and as she moved, her pants would mold to her body. They were very seductive and I wondered if she realized how sexy she looked. Her bottom was perfectly shaped, the pants enhancing her figure. I thought to myself that I must be getting really old because I hadn't noticed how shapely she was. What a stunning looking woman, regardless of age.

Finally I decided I would rather sit at the island and watch her move around the kitchen so I picked up Sam from my lap and sat her on the floor. As soon as I was standing, Sam jumped up into the chair and snuggled in. I pulled out one of the bar type stools from the counter and sat down.

Heather smiled at me as I mentioned, "The view is far more interesting in the kitchen than looking out at the water."

I glanced at the table and was impressed. Heather had some candles burning on the table along with the large group of flowers I had purchased for her. The table looked very inviting and very elegant.

Finally, the food was on the table and I moved my drink to the place she indicated. I stepped to the other end of the table and held out her chair as she sat down. As I scooted her forward, I was awarded with a lovely look down the front of her blouse and I could not help but noticed she was not wearing a bra. From what I could tell, her breasts were large and well shaped. I couldn't help it but I felt like a school kid. When I sat down, she asked me why my face was so red and I decided at that moment I was not going to play games with her; but rather always speak the truth. "As I moved your chair forward I was able to look down the front of your blouse. I felt like I'm back in junior high or something. Your outfit is very alluring and you look stunning."

"So; what did you see when you looked down the front of my blouse?" she laughingly asked.

I grinned at her, "That you didn't have a bra on ... and..." I couldn't help but pause for a moment.

"And what?" She asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"And from what I could see, you have a superb body." I could feel my face turning several shades of red.

Her smile lit up the room more than 100 candles could. "It has been a long time since I had such nice complements. Thank you," she nodded her head, "you say the nicest things."

The wine flowed, as did our conversation. I was pleased she was so open and free with our discussion. She asked me about my company and I explained what I did and how I started the business. She asked me why I'd never married and I explained I was young and besides, I thought I'd never met the right person. I thought the last lady might be the right one, but now - perhaps she wasn't the one for me. Heather asked me what I was looking for in a woman and without even thinking I said, "Somebody like you."

She stared at me for a moment and then asked me, "What did you just say?"

I looked down at the table and mumbled, "Sorry; that just seemed to pop out. I was totally out of line and I apologize."

She continued to stare at me and I was feeling uneasy. When she spoke her voice was soft and low, "Apology is not necessary. But why did you say somebody like me?"

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