TITILLATING TUESDAY PAGE TURNERS

Chapter 10 - MIGUEL

             “Come on in, G. The water’s great.”

            Genevieve sat on the beach in her red halter-top bikini, watching Miguel body surf. The sand was soft and warm underneath the blanket he had laid out for her. She was hot, with the sun beating down on her, and the water did look inviting, but not enough for her to join him. Miguel caught another wave then walked up from the shoreline to greet her, shaking his wet head of hair over her dry, sun-stroked body.

            “Miguel! Must you shake water all over me?”

            Miguel plopped himself on the blanket, playfully rolled on top of her, and smothered her with his sopping body. At first she resisted, but even in her agitated mood she couldn’t help give in to his mischievousness behavior. She was a sucker for spontaneous fun.

            They made out, there on the blanket, in the sand, for a long, luxurious while. For some reason she found his salty kisses very sensual, maybe because his lips were so full and wet. He groped around her warm body cautiously, as they weren’t the only ones on the beach. Miguel was sensitive about privacy when it came to matters of the heart and body, unlike Genevieve, who was much more of a free spirit. He had considered himself to be a bit of a risk taker when it came to sex, but on meeting Genevieve, he realized she had him beat. He found her sense of reckless abandon highly seductive, which was one reason he simply could not stay away from her. Her beauty, charm and now her aloofness were all a turn-on as well. How ironic, he thought, that he should be chasing a woman who seemed disinterested. It gave him all the more reason to conquer her.

            “You are so lovely, ma chérie. How does someone as beautiful and talented as you, end up working in a place like that?”

She shifted under his weight uneasily, so he swept her up in his arms and swung her light limbs around to his lap so he could look at her.  

            “A place like what?" replied Genevieve, looking back at him.

            “You know, the salon. I mean, you’re good and everything, but I see you doing so much more with your life.”

            After she had let her guard down with him, it annoyed her to be questioned like this. She began to get irritable again. Why, she wondered, was he sticking his nose into her affairs? She turned from him and picked at the week-old polish on her toenails that was already chipping away. After a minute or two, Miguel seemed to get the picture.

            “Never mind, G. Sorry I even brought it up. It’s none of my business. I just see so much potential in you. That’s all.”

            “You sound like my mother.” She answered with an aggravated laugh.

            There was a long silence while they both sat listening to the waves roll in after crashing on the hard-packed sand. If they listened carefully they could hear each bubble burst with a soft hiss before drifting back out to sea.

            “Hey,” Miguel suddenly said, as if an idea just popped into his head. “I know of this secluded cove just down the beach. My buddies and I used to go there to drink and surf and hang out. Do you feel like walking? If you do, it would be a much better place than this.”

Miguel gestured to the growing number of people descending on the once wide open space of sand and dunes. Even if she was leery of his intentions, she couldn’t argue with the facts. She stood up and shook loose sand from her swimsuit.

            “Why not.”

The two wandered down the beach for a little over a mile. Being the gentleman, Miguel carried the blanket, picnic lunch, which included a thermos of wine, and G’s bag of belongings. The wind was warm and westerly, and felt cool against the burning Florida sun. Genevieve splashed through the incoming tide as they wandered along, kicking up foamy water as she went, but Miguel noticed she didn’t venture far. At one point he made his way to her side where he tried to take her hand, but she brushed him off coolly, as if playing hard to get. It made Miguel wonder, but he pushed no further.

Soon they approached a large cluster of rocks where very big waves crashed intermittently, and the only way into the cove seemed precarious. At this point, Miguel did grab Genevieve’s hand and she didn’t argue. He led the way forward, watching the tidal currents, gauging the timing and power of the waves.

“Okay, G, when I say go, run like the wind, and don’t let go of my hand. Understand?”

Genevieve, who was always up for adventure, was quiet. She wasn’t used to tampering with nature, and the ocean frightened her. When she was a young girl, she was at the seashore with her mother and father. She and her sister were building a sandcastle close to the water’s edge, where the sand was damp and firm. They hadn’t noticed that the tide was coming in when a rogue wave came and swept her out. All she remembers was frantically trying to grab at anything, the sand, the rocks, but being unable to hang on, or to stop herself from being pulled out with the current. Then, her father’s hand reached out to grab hers and, with a heavy pull, he hauled her out of the undertow. Ever since that time, her wariness of swimming or playing too deep in the ocean had kept her at arm’s length.

She didn’t want to show her fear to Miguel, let alone explain that because of her childhood experience she would rather turn around and go back, than proceed to his secluded cove. However, before she could protest, Miguel pulled her forward and they were knee deep, running through white, foamy water, like two galloping horses. Surprised and elated, Genevieve felt a freedom she’d never felt before. Was it because she trusted, and was finally letting go of her fear of the ocean, or was it the sheer delight of splashing in waves completely free and uninhibited. She laughed out loud, tossing her head back, kicking up her heels in delight. Miguel smiled broadly to see her so happy, pleased that her mood had shifted from edgy to one of high spirits. They reached the far side of the rock bluff well ahead of the next series of waves that came crashing down behind them.

“That was amazing,” Genevieve gushed. “I’ve never done that before. It was…it was so liberating.”

As they darted up the white sandy beach, they realized it was completely void of people.

Miguel smiled, drew her in and held her close. She let him hold her, hearing nothing but the gull’s cries and the fierceness of the tidal currents collide with the shore. Suddenly his lips were on hers, and she responded, hers wet and willing. His tongue entered easily as she opened her mouth and tilted her head toward his, giving herself to him. This feeling of freedom was pure ecstasy to her, and she felt it right through to her bones.

As his tongue reached toward the back of her throat her body pressed closer to his. She found his free hand and placed it on her stomach, guiding it slowly downward. He dropped the load that he had been carrying to release himself fully to her. He had waited for this moment since they first met, since their first encounter. He didn’t intend to lose it now. His fingers groped until he found her creamy wetness beneath the red bikini that had now slipped down away from around her hips. He could hardly restrain himself, but she pulled away teasingly, running back toward the sea, enticing him to chase her. And he did. When he caught up with her, her top was off and she was dancing circles in the sand, splashing in the water’s edge, arms outstretched. Miguel was riveted. He stopped, savoring the moment. She was absolutely beautiful, and seemed so happy. When she was finished spinning he grabbed her and pulled her close to him again. His eager hands grasped her bare breasts. He tugged on her nipples then gingerly cupped their fullness in his palms, squeezing perhaps a little too urgently. He reached for her mouth with his, kissed and sucked hungrily. His hands slid slowly from her full breasts to where her bikini bottoms used to be, and which was now smooth, bare skin. With little effort, Genevieve shimmied out, letting them fall into the dry, hot sand. She stepped one foot out and reached it up to Miguel’s waist, then ran it around to his groin, pressing her toes onto his stiff, erect member. Barely able to balance on one foot, Miguel lifted a teetering Genevieve up, and carried her over to an alcove in the rocks. Not that anyone was around, but somehow it gave him a feeling of privacy for them to be as free and open with each other as they wished, which at this point was a lot.

  When Miguel set Genevieve on top of a patch of warm, dry sand, she immediately nestled in to create a comfortable place for their bodies to lie. Her legs opened and he came down on her passionately. She let his tongue have her in every way possible. When he was finished, and she was ready, he entered into her moist opening, groaning in ecstasy. With eyes closed, she allowed herself this indulgence, this moment of pleasure. However, every sensual touch, every tug of her nipples, every wet and eager kiss, and every erotic thrust, she envisioned Irish. 

...stay tuned...Chapter 11 of Salon Antics will be posted next Tuesday, September 27th...