Safe Harbor - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Her entrance is unnoticed save the quick glance given her by the regulars at Don's Raw Bar. They are accustomed to her appearance at this time as it had been the same for the past six months. A whine of the screen door, the slap of wood upon wood as it swings shut, her soft steps across the wooden floor. Without a word, she once again takes her place at the table facing the bay; back turned to the eyes which barely now give her notice.

As he had done these long winter-turned-to-spring months, Don walks silently to her table, sets the bottle of Tecante beer and a glass which he knew would go unused before her, and quietly walks away. Don could tell when a storm was off at sea and when to heave to for calm waters.

In silence she sits. Brown hair with sun drench streaks, elegant in her form, with long legs and toned physique. In any other circumstance she was a prize to be won. Yet Don and the beachcomber group of regulars knew better. She was a far off
storm and everyone knew to avoid her wake.

What was she looking for as she stared at the bridge crossing the bay to the island? No one knew. . .many guessed. Perhaps a lost love, an old friend, herself. . .the question remained unanswered. Yet, here on this island was a walking ghost, searching the endless stream of lights across the mainland
bridge for something.

Few notice her departure from Don's and those who do are relieved at what they perceive as the departure of a walking omen of bad things to come.

The wind blows sharply off the ocean as she slowly ascends the steps to her seaside cottage. The drapes above the French doors opening to the deck waft rollickingly in the breeze as she enters.

Never had the doors been locked since her arrival, as if she expects someone or something, ignoring the other consequences of judgment.

The routine is always the same - from the living area to the kitchen - refrigerator door open - Chianti, glass - to the Jacuzzi, water on 104 degrees - pour the wine - turn off all the lights. The actions seem to be a mantra without words as if the mere monotony is her answer to her own sanity.

A single candle on the vanity gives a surreal glow of orange and yellow to the Jacuzzi room just off the living area. The lavender-scented flame leaps and dances with the breeze from the ocean, casting playful shadows on the walls.

Slowly she unbuttons the oversized linen blouse which drapes her
shoulders. One button, then another, and slowly then another. The smooth fabric then eases off her shoulders and carelessly drops to the floor, exposing her toned breasts with near perfectly round areolas and proportioned nipples.

Her hands move down her flattened stomach, slipping easily into the waistband of her cut-off jeans. Gentle fingertips barely caress her stomach, then graze lightly across the upper reaches of her bikini line. A flick of her fingers and the button is undone as the shorts glide to the floor.

She stands motionless, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. Lovely brown hair cascades across her shoulders; her golden tan enhances the firm features of toned arms and delicate waistline; her thighs, taught and defined; her passion nest with tight curls trimmed to a small triangle.

Staring. . .admiring. With subtle grace, she steps lightly into the tub, and slowly lowers her body, bottom first, feeling the warm water lash across and then envelop her passion as she sinks into the warm candlelit waters which swirl with the jets of the jacuzzi. One hand languidly reaches for the bottle resting on the tub's apron to refill an already drained glass. A sip -eyes closed . . .steam fills her nostrils. . .jetties of water caress her
body.

As she reaches to the side to replace the glass and bottle on the apron, a strong torrent of water pulsates against her breast. An audible sigh escapes her lips as she reclines deeper into the soothing pool.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the finger of her right hand moves up to her right breast. Softly she teases the nipple to taught erection, squeezing gently between her first two fingers, soft tugs until it stands to full attention. Her left hand glides through the water to trace the outline of her hips, yet not touching, then across her stomach to her right thigh, around slowly to the
inner thigh, letting her fingers dance with the pulsating water above her sex.

Her legs slowly part as her right index finger traces the features of
her face. Her left hand, leading with middle finger, follows a heated path across the midline of her stomach, down past her navel, pausing, slowly descending.

She gives a slight shudder as her finger moves glancingly over
her passion bud, slightly parting her nether lips, pausing at the entrance to her sex, then moving further down, resting pressure on her farthest entrance.

Steam swirls around her body as do the hot jetties of water. Her right hand moves alternately between her two engorged nipples, tracing the outline of her areolas. Her left hand retraces its path.

This time her middle finger moves deeper into the crevasses of her sex, now stopping at her clitoris. Her first and third fingers part her sex, fully revealing her passion. Her middle finger circles around the bud slowly, lavishly.

The water mimics her touches. Over and over the water encircles her growing passion. Her hips slightly rock in rhythm with the tiny waves. Her left leg rises to steady her against the tub. Left hand draws circles, and fingers then slowly descend the crevasse.

Two fingers slide into her sex forming circles as they move deeper into her passion. Circling in deeper, then reversing direction and circling out. Circling in..... circling out ... deeper... circling in. Inner muscles contract, gripping at her fingers...
circling out. In..... clench..... circling out. Deeper, wider circles.

Thumb imitates fingers, performing a dance upon her clitoris. Hips rise, fingers plunge deeper into her sex. Over and over... wider, deeper circles.

Her ring finger slips down to another entrance to her abandon, gently penetrating her taboos of passion. Two fingers deeper, wider... circling. Ring finger pulsates inward deeper and now gently circles inside her.

Her hips rock and rise almost out of the water. Deeper her fingers plunge then with increasing pulsating rate. Her right hand squeezes and stretches her nipples, eliciting audible gasps mixed with the rush of water. Fingers all meet separated by sheer membrane.

Her hips rock furiously as if impaled upon some unseen phantasm. A bright white light coupled with a deathly gasp and final shudder signal the end.