Sex On The Beach - Part One

The surf was breaking close to shore in two or three foot swells. Nick stopped walking and looked at me.

"From here to eternity."

"Oh, Honey, that's so swee... Wait a minute! Oh, hell no! We're not gonna make love in the surf! There's no way I'm getting sand and seaweed and God knows what little sea critters all up in my hoo haa!"

"Your hoo haa?" he laughed. "Really? Your hoo haa? Are you five?"

I smacked him in the face. Hard. He kept laughing.

"Calm down! I'd never make you do that! It creeps me out, too!"

He hugged me tightly. I struggled, still miffed at him for laughing at my hoo haa, but not too much. You can't give away too much on the first date and I didn't want him thinking he could get away with that sort of verbal abuse.

"It's no worse than Mr. Happy," I countered.

"Okay, so we're Mr. Happy and Ms. Hoo Haa. What a pair."

By this time, we'd passed the first rock outcrop and the restaurant was a faint glow. The marine layer was moving in and the sky was a light gray, reflecting the lights of millions of Los Angeles residents.

With the clouds and the lights, it was impossible to tell if there was anything in the sky beyond the glow. You get used to it. There aren't many places where you don't have some ambient light from human population.

I tried to imagine what it might have been like here five hundred years before, the native Americans hunting and fishing, living in small villages. The first Spanish priests coming up from Mexico, establishing the missions that would eventually become the focal points of many of California's most important cities.

It made me feel primal, somehow, in touch with my deeper feelings.

I took Nick by the arm and led him up from the waterline. I wasn’t going to take any chances with his "from here to eternity" scheme, no matter what he'd said.

Up against the cliffs are a bunch of old boats, sailboards and surfboards. Years ago, somebody scrawled "Private Property Do Not Use" on the hull of a decrepit catamaran -- like anyone would even try to use it -- in an effort to protect, what had always looked to me, like useless junk. I'd never seen anyone use it and it never seemed to move, but somebody felt the need to protect their possessions.

It was well above the high tide line and the sand was flat and still a little warm from a day of sunshine. I spread out one of the towels and dropped my shoes.

"Feel like a dip?" Nick asked.

"I'm thinking about it."

"But you didn’t bring a suit. You don't want to ride home with wet undies. I know I don't."

I started to unbutton my blouse. "Seems like we have two choices. Swim in our undies and go home 'commando' or skinny-dip and hope we can find our underwear again. Do you have a preference?"

"I say we do both. Skinny-dip and go home commando, even if we can find all our clothes."

"Aren't you a naughty boy."

"Not really. It's just nice to swing free once in a while. And I know you're squeezed into more than usual. Wouldn't it be nice to get out of those Spanx and bra?"

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" I laughed.

So, you can probably imagine where this is going.... Come back soon and see if you're right!