Lightning in a Bottle
Chapter 8: Down The Shore

Copyright© 2012 by Sage Mullins

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 8: Down The Shore - Patrick O'Malley, a 44-year old former musician, is quite happy with his life as a twice-divorced, middle-aged playboy. Suddenly, he finds himself sent back in time to a point a few days past his 17th birthday. He also discovers that things are not quite the same this time around. The "violent" code applies only to a single incident. The FF is implied and happens off-screen.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Time Travel   DoOver   Interracial   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Violence   School  

July 16, 1980

This was a most excellent day. The best day, so far, since my return to 1980.

The beach trip I'd discussed with Dave took nearly two weeks to materialize. The delay was mostly due to my parents, who because of my recent accident, had reservations about me going away for an entire day. But these concerns were alleviated with a trip to the doctor, who'd assured them I was recovering exceedingly well.

The doctor questioned me about my home life, my school life, and everything else he could think of. I blasted through the interrogation with ease, amazing even myself.

"Let him go back to being a normal teenager," he advised Mom and Dad. "He's fine. He's in perfect health. Let him go to the beach. His progress is exceptional. At this point, I expect him to regain most if not all of his memory."

My parents were thrilled upon hearing that, but I was even more so. I would still have to use the amnesia crutch for a while longer, especially at the beginning of the upcoming school year, Dave's help notwithstanding. But I was looking forward to a time when I could function fully in this life without having to claim memory loss. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Freedom was within my reach!

And so, bright and early that Wednesday morning, I took off in Mom's car. Her insistence that I "be sure to drive carefully" was still fresh in my mind, but I knew she had nothing to worry about. I was, unbeknownst to her, the possessor of an adult mind and an adult sense of responsibility. It was Mom's day off. Eileen had arranged other transportation to her choir practice. Seamus was no longer in swim class, and would not be starting karate class till the following week. So, the car was mine for a day; Mom had told me she was looking forward to actually spending an entire day at home.

I should add that this beach trip did not take place in any way, shape or form in the other timeline.

My first stop was at Diana's place. I didn't even have to knock on the door. She came bounding out of the front door, opened the passenger door, got inside, and greeted me with a smile and a kiss. She had on designer sunglasses, a Cheap Trick T-shirt and a pair of short shorts, but I knew those clothes wouldn't stay on her for long.

"Wait till you see me in my bikini," she purred, following my train of thought.

"I'd like to see you out of your bikini."

"Maybe you will," she said tantalizingly.

Next, we drove over to Dave's house, where Dave and Gina were waiting for us. Dave directed me to back into his driveway and open the trunk. He disappeared into the garage, and then re-emerged, carrying the same ice cooler he'd had that day in the woods. Quickly, he threw it in the trunk, and slammed it shut.

"Careful, dude," I said warily. "That's my mom's car. What's in the cooler, anyhow?" Of course, I knew the answer to that.

"Brewskis," came his reply. "Got a couple of sixes for us. We need to stop somewhere to pick up some ice."

"Hope the cops don't pull us over," I said resignedly, mostly to myself. We were, after all, quite underage. Except, in a sense, for me, although my ID wouldn't reflect that.

We took off, and stopped at the nearest convenience store, where Dave ran in and bought a bag of ice, along with a few sodas that I'd requested. He poured the ice into the cooler, put the sodas in alongside the beer, and we hit the road, heading for the beach ... or rather, the shore, as it's called in this part of the USA.

Gina – who had a loud, booming voice and an overbearing personality – practically shouted at me three minutes into the trip, "Are we there yet, Pat?"

"Not quite," I grinned tolerantly. Gina was a big-breasted girl with dark brown hair, not bad looking at all. But in my eyes, she couldn't hold a candle to the girl sitting in the passenger seat next to me. Diana had removed her T-shirt. Her bikini top was solid pink, and barely contained her boobs.

"You like?" Diana growled seductively.

"Very much. Both of them. Oh, you mean the bikini," I said with a leer.

"You brat," she smiled.

"Got some tunes?" Dave's voice came from the back.

"That can be arranged," I grinned, and switched on the radio. The distinctive bass line of "My Sharona" reverberated from the stereo speakers. Spontaneously, I began to sing along. I always could sing, but as a high-schooler the first time around, I'd been too self-conscious to do it publicly. Not so this time. I let my voice come through in all its glory. Dave, even now a drummer at heart, began pounding out the beat with his hands on the head rest behind me.

We stopped at a red light, and I turned to Diana and started singing to her, changing the lyrics from "My Sharona" to "My Diana". Her reaction surprised me ... she blushed! I'd never seen her blush before. During the long guitar solo in the middle of the song, she told me softly, her eyes dancing, "Pat ... I never knew you could sing like that."

"I think there are a lot of things we don't know about each other," I replied, smiling affectionately at her, then continued to sing.

After the song ended, the station went to a commercial. I flipped the dial until I heard "Sweet Home Alabama".

"I can do this one, too," I grinned.

And so it continued, for four or five more songs, with Dave accompanying me on the head rest, until my voice went hoarse. I was, after all, very much out of practice.

"That was great. You guys should start a band!" Gina shouted, about twenty decibels louder than necessary.

"That's a thought," I replied casually. But her words planted a seed in my mind. What if we could re-create our band in this reality, and do it right this time?

I was mulling that over as I pulled into a parking lot. We were in Wildwood, New Jersey, about two blocks from the beach. I handed three one-dollar bills to the parking lot attendant.

"It's up to three bucks now?" Dave exclaimed."What a rip-off!"

And it will cost ten bucks, or more, a couple of decades from now, I said to myself.

We all got out of the car. I opened the trunk, and removed the sodas from the cooler, leaving the remaining contents inside for the time being. The cooler stayed in the trunk. Once on the beach, we spread out a couple of blankets, set up a boom box that I'd brought along, and put up a large beach umbrella. Diana looked at me invitingly, then lowered her shorts to finally reveal her pink-bikini-clad body. Nothing much was left to the imagination, that's for sure. All four of us then each took turns rubbing sunscreen on our respective dates in the time-honored manner.

"I plan to put my hands on every single uncovered square inch of your body," I told Diana, rubbing down her back as she lay on the blanket.

"You can venture a little into the covered territory, too, if you like," she replied suggestively. "I surely don't mind."

We just laid there and baked in the sun, shooting the breeze, through the morning and into the early afternoon. It was mid-week, so the beach wasn't too crowded, but there were still plenty of people about. I noticed that the two girls were still feeling each other out, and didn't say much to each other. Diana had no close girl friends. She was one of those girls who just preferred to be around males, even in non-sexual ways. And Gina's boisterous nature certainly didn't make matters easier.

Around two-thirty, Dave and Gina made a move to get up from their blanket. "We're gonna take a walk," he declared. "Could I borrow the car keys? I want to stop by the car first."

I threw him the keys. "If you're going back to the car, take the boom box and the umbrella. Diana and I will probably take a little walk ourselves, and we don't want to leave anything worth stealing."

Off they went, leaving Diana and I there on our blanket. She rested on her side, her arm propping up her head, facing me.

"Dave is a really good guy," she remarked, "but I have to tell you that I don't like Gina. She's obnoxious as hell."

"I don't like her that much, either. If you watch Dave and Gina together, they aren't really boyfriend and girlfriend. They don't act the way we do. They're more like drinking buddies."

Diana just looked at me dreamily and smiled. There had been an implication within that statement regarding she and I, and she'd picked up on it.

"I think we should take that walk," I suggested. "Care to join me?"

"Of course." We got up from the towel. I pulled another towel out of my beach bag, draped it across my shoulder and we walked off, hand in hand.

As we walked in the general direction of the boardwalk, a few blocks away, we entered an area with very few sunbathers. The lifeguard stands were located at the end of every other city block, and those on the beach tended to congregate where the lifeguards were in close proximity. We approached the boardwalk, and I suddenly started singing "Under The Boardwalk". Diana began to giggle.

"Is that what you had in mind?"

"No," I replied. "Too cliché."

Soon, I found exactly the kind of place I was looking for; it was a small depression located between a couple of sand dunes. A lone tree provided shade, which was important, because it kept the sand from being scorching hot. It was well out of view from the boardwalk. It wasn't particularly isolated, but it would provide enough privacy.

I laid down the towel I was carrying on my shoulder, and soon, we were lying on it, making out furiously. She was as hot and bothered as I'd ever seen her. Soon, her bikini top was off, and she was begging me to suck her tits. I complied, but she was exceedingly horny and she soon had other plans for my mouth.

"No, no, no, no. Not my tits. I want you to eat me. Eat my pussy!" she growled fiercely.

Who would ignore such a request? Not me. I peeled off her bikini bottom and dove into her pussy. I licked away with abandon, inducing one quick, rather loud orgasm. Despite the somewhat public setting, I enjoyed this particular act too much to leave her with just one. Her second climax also came rapidly and with even more intensity. Suddenly, she reared up and practically tackled me. Before I realized it, she had my bathing suit off and her mouth on my dick. She tried her best to bring me off with her mouth, but I wanted to finish inside her. So I quickly switched positions, taking her doggie style, which allowed me to peer over the sand dune to see if anyone was spying on us. I didn't see anyone, and I quickly shot off into her.

"You're a little firecracker today, aren't you," I smiled contentedly.

"This has been such a perfect day that I just can't get enough."

I had to agree with that assessment.

We got cleaned up, or rather, as clean as you can get with a towel and a couple of pieces of tissue paper. We walked out from behind the dune. No one was in close proximity, except for a couple of guys maybe a hundred feet away, throwing a frisbee back and forth.

To my astonishment, Diana grabbed my arm affectionately and shouted out at the frisbee tossers, "Hey! Guess what we were just doing back there?" She pointed at the dune.

"You did not just say that, Diana," I said, grinning, but thoroughly embarrassed. "Tell me you didn't say that."

"I did," she said, holding me tighter, waving at the two guys who were cracking up. Diana always had an exhibitionist streak in her, albeit not of the conventional kind. She wanted privacy during The Act, but afterward, she wanted everyone, including (and especially) strangers to know she'd been doing something naughty.

I wanted to move away from this general area, not just because of embarrassment, but because I have a general mistrust of strangers. We didn't know those guys, nor did we know if they'd be inclined to pursue us in search of a little action of their own with Diana.

We walked diagonally across the beach, finding ourselves at the surf line back in the vicinity of the lifeguard stand. The surf was lapping at our feet.

"Wanna go for a swim?" I asked her, not knowing if she'd be interested. But she grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the water with her. The water was a little cold at first, but I soon got used to it. She kept pulling my hand, laughing as we went, until we were as far out in the water as anyone else around. The water was up to my chin; for her, it was too deep to stand. But she began swimming around furiously, still giggling, just showing off. I just watched her for a minute. Not only did she know how to swim, but she was every bit as good as I was. I never knew that about her! Soon she came in close and wrapped her arms around me.

"It's too deep out here for me," she said, tongue firmly in cheek, feigning helplessness. "I need to be rescued."

"Suuuure you do. You look like you're plenty capable of taking care of yourself."

"But that's no fun," she whined. Then she broke free of me for a second. I saw her disappear under water, and then re-emerge ... holding the bottom of her bikini over her head, waving it around triumphantly.

I looked around. We were pretty isolated, on the outer fringes of the range of the lifeguard. There was no one within a couple hundred feet of us. Hmmm, ya think? I said to myself. The water was dark green and pretty much opaque. It was impossible for anyone to see what happened beneath the water line. Diana snapped me out of my brief reverie, splashing water in my face.

"Wake up," she said teasingly. "It's your turn. Or do you want me to un-pants you myself?"

"That might be fun," I smirked. But under the water I went, and peeled off my swim trunks. I showed them to her. She responded by throwing her arms and legs around me. Her hand probed underwater and quickly found my cock, which was more like a steel rod at this point. She purred her approval and began to stroke me. But I reached down and removed her hand. I took my own hand and located her pussy. I positioned my cock at the entrance, and pushed. We were both so turned on at this point that it popped right in, and I found myself bottomed out within her. The suddenness of this maneuver surprised her.

"Ooooooo!" she cooed. We were coupled out there in the ocean!

I tried to move in and out of her, but it was difficult. The problem was, even though the ocean was relatively calm, a wave swell would come along every few seconds, and I had to constantly propel us both upward with my toes to keep our heads above water. The ever-imaginative Diana came up with a solution.

"Can you tread water and support us both?"

I tried, and found that I could do it, although it took some work. I knew I'd tire out quickly.

"Okay," she directed, "you just keep us afloat. I'll do all the other work." She held my swim trunks and the bottom half of her bikini in one hand, wrapped her legs around my waist, and began to milk my cock by moving her hips back and forth. It wasn't the most physically stimulating way to make love, but the idea of screwing in the ocean was such a turn-on that before I knew it, I was coming ferociously inside her. It was a long, intense orgasm, and when it was over, I realized that I was exhausted. I was more than happy to put my feet down on the bottom.

"I think," I panted, out of breath, "that it's my turn to take care of you." I intended to finger her to orgasm. But once again, she had a novel suggestion as to how we might accomplish that goal.

"Let's move in a little where the water isn't so deep. We'll still be covered, and we don't have to worry about the waves." We moved about twenty feet toward the shore, where even the tallest swells only made it up to my neck. My shrinking cock was still inside her; it slid out as she lifted herself off of me.

"Now put your hands on my tush and help me scoot up a little bit. And bend backwards just a little."

"What are you planning to do?"

"I'm gonna rub myself off on your tummy."

I cupped her cheeks with my hands and pulled her upwards. I relished any chance I could get to handle that magnificent ass of hers. Now, her pussy was pressing against my skin, just above the navel. She tightened her grip on me with her legs, and used her hips to grind against me. Her face was in close proximity to mine; anyone who saw us probably figured we were just making out. But I was able to look directly at her face as she approached orgasm. Her eyelids began to flutter and she drew her mouth up into an O shape. As she came, she exhaled sharply; I felt the whoosh of her breath on my face.

 
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