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After their emotional discussion, Will and Laura strolled down to the beach and took a meditative walk. She had on a dress with a billowy hem and flat, short boots. The boots were perfect for walking on the beach, but the wintery Charleston ocean breeze kept lifting her skirt. A couple of times, her entire backside was exposed. The curves of her lace-covered buttocks were on display when feisty gusts blew up.
With one such blast of air, Will drew his arm over and cupped her firm round flesh. It was just the two of them – and whoever might have been looking outside their windows. They stood in the shallow surf and kissed. His tongue was so warm, so penetrating. It entered her mouth and prowled and owned. Laura entwined her tongue with his and searched the wet pliant walls of his mouth as he did hers. At once she was possessed by a driving, carnal desire – the earth elements, the natural romantic setting. But for potential lookers on, Laura had a strong fantasy to be taken in the wet sand with the water washing over them in the broad daylight. The urge conjured an intense internal sensitivity and a need for pleasure.
Their kissing became ravenous and without regard for who might see, Will hoisted her and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was able to brace her with one hand and sneak a sweet agitation between them in the vulnerable soft flesh between her legs. Finally he broke their kiss and buried his face in her hair and growled with slight frustration. He lowered back to earth, took her hand and said, "Come."
Will wound them around on rocky formation where there was no sand. They had to climb around its face and in to a cove. Into the rock face of this cove, rising from a private beach, was a structure with a beautiful worn but polished wooden door. She thought, at first, that they were going to go inside. The door had a nob and hinges. Unless it was locked and Will didn’t have the key, Laura assumed they could. Will turned her around so that her palms were pressing against the very solid structure. In the cool beach air, he fitted his body behind hers, unfastened his clothing and entered her. He held her in bondage with his body, completely encasing her against the weather, bracing her with his powerful arms, pleasuring her with his skillful fingers. Will knew her body so well. With the sun on them and the thunder of the sea filling their ears, he took her fast and furiously. Like a locomotive, he drove into her until they were both stunned and wailing from an intense erotic peak. She felt him stagger, finding his footing by leaning against the wall of rock rising up around them. Her entire body was electrified from the quick, intense, arousal. She could do it again. And she said so.
“Fuck me again.”
He looked at her with the wicked expression of the devil. He took her slight waist in his hands and propped her on the rocks, less sheltered from the eyes of anyone who might happen to pass by. He held her firm and requested that she make herself come again. Laura scanned the area and saw that, even though they were out in the open, they had total privacy. So with the warming sun on her exposed flesh, she did as he asked, for her pleasure and his. It didn’t take much to bring back to life that exquisite climax.
As the waves of pleasure washed over her and slowly ebbed away, he brought her back to the sand and they returned to the beach. “Miss Laura, I will take the image of you with me always,” he murmured into her hair. “Now, I promised you a night of fine dining in Charleston and you shall have it. Why don’t you go put on another sweet dress and meet me downstairs in about an hour? This is fancy so you can go all out.”
She wasn’t sure what he was doing in the meantime. He readied himself separately. Now that the house was virtually empty, the girlfriends and the dates had all gone and some of the Knights had gone, as well, there were lots of rooms where Will could do that. Laura had thought to pack a black strapless velveteen number. In the dresser drawer were clothes that belonged to someone else. She understood that when the Knights’ Disciples were not there, the house was vacant. She was curious, and perhaps a little jealous, as to whose clothes those might be but she practiced restraint and decided if she really wanted to know she would raise it in conversation. Whosever clothes it was, with whispered apologies, she borrowed a pair of her seamed stockings. They were absolutely beautiful and were the perfect finishing touch.