the unexpected uplanned trip

Boris Vallejo

A Monday morning story...

The unexpected unplanned trip. A journey that would  present a myriad of choices, a myriad of questions needing answers...

It had started as a languid, leisurely long weekend...different from usual. The quiet solitude of a busy mind. A trip down to the coast, the desire to hear the crashing of the south coast waves.

His family away, and, he too, needing to dissociate himself from the known comforts of his home, taking that spur of the moment flight.

Nobody would miss him, they wouldn't even care to ask where he was. Taking fore granted he would be wherever he would be...if that made any sense.

In some way he loved the freedom. The perks of a busy professional life. 

Perks? The flying? Hardly ever home?

It was time to slow down. He felt he was missing out on his life. The weekend was all about that...how to work toward it and make it happen.

Sitting on the beach, clammy from the coastal air, the freshness of the morning hitting his nostrils hard, he felt as if he was in his twenties again, without a care in the world, nothing else existing but him and that moment...the sun hitting bright...the reflection on the ever moving mass of water a sheen brilliant. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken care to actually appreciate nature.

In the distance sea line, he noticed a dark spot beginning to make its way out of the sheer brilliant sheen of the waters...difficult to discern exactly what it was.

if anybody, before that moment had asked him, did he believe the existence of magical creatures in the sea...he would have viewed them as slightly off their rocker. 

But. 

There it was...putting into question his non belief of anything magical. 

The silhouette of a female...

A silhouette  joyous and  free, each breaking wave washing her closer and closer to shore. He was fascinated by her non resistance of being forced all over the place by the strength of the braking waves....and yet it seemed, that is how it was supposed to be...to go with the motion instead of fighting it. 

She started to take definite shape, looming real and bigger than life, walking toward him.

He had shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun, wishing to see more of her outline against the backdrop of the sea. The outline became all hips and the womanly roundness of a bossom unrestricted by a brassiere...the skimpiness of her bathing suite enhancing her femininity for it wished not to be restricted. She plonked herself on her knees, right in front of him...all wet and soaked and all he could think about was the taste of saltiness on her gleaming flesh.

"You alone?" she asked. " I am."

He didn't know what to say, still lost in the moment of staring at her and eating up every inch of he wet frame...her legs parted, revealing the perfect gap between her strong thighs.

"You wanna swim?"

And, without waiting for a response, she grabbed his hand and started pulling him up. He didn't find her actions strange nor intrusive, wishing not to resist pushed himself up, throwing off his tshirt and chasing after her. 

He threw himself into the sea, the fresh coldness a shock. Her laughter coaxed him, invited him, deeper. 

Was it the movement of the sea or did she plan it but, there she was, all of a sudden, wrapped around him. 

He could feel the beauty of her femininity pressed against him...wave after wave rocking them together, mesmerising him, pushing them out to shore. With each incoming wave, saltiness of the seawater invading his nostrils....he didn't care that he was beginning to choke. He was transfixed by all of her. 

She kissed him.

The sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, it jolted his whole frame...what was this? What was happening...and even though wrong, he didn't care to fight it....(to be continued) RB.

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