I brought my guitar to work. Mom knew what it was for but she didn’t say anything. She just looked out the window and watched the waves crash. I am sure she thought of the men she knew before she met my father.
The lunch shift had to be taken care of first. My parents own the restaurant but where I love to work is the kitchen. Surrounded by frying grease and flour I can focus on my work. If I saw the customers, with their swimsuits and sun bleached hair, I would get nothing done.
After the lunch rush, my mom lets me go. Smelling of hush puppies and fried flounder, I head to the beach. The wind is loud but the waves are louder. It is almost impossible to be heard here. That’s okay. The Summer Song is felt, not heard.
I sit on the beach and take out my guitar. My toes dig into the hot sand. Men and women walk by, their eyes hidden by their sunglasses.
I start to play. I sing but I never remember the words. The song is handed down from generation to generation in my family but there are no lyrics to memorize. The tune changes as well. What is handed down is the longing.
I sing about lack of responsibilities. I sing about the ocean that can go anywhere from the beach we are on. I sing about pretty bikinis and the prettier girls who wear them. I sing about the wind that turns every careful hair style into a wild mess. I sing about the endless possibilities of Summer.
One woman heard me. Black and white stripes barely covered her tanned breasts and the cove between her legs. She stops to listen while her red blonde hair whips around her. My singing touched her and now she is a part of me.
Her name is Julie. We talk. We walk along the beach. An hour after I sang my song, we are fucking in a beach house that she rented with her friends.
I taste the ocean salt on her lips. I fondle lovely breasts decorated with her lingerie of tan lines. I grip her fit ass tightened by long walks on sand. I peel off her sweat soaked bikini to lap at her hidden inlet.
“I don’t normally do this,” she whispers. Julie takes my cock into her mouth. She chokes me down with the enthusiasm of a summer escape. Away from home, away from the city and away from her friends, Julie will do things she only imagined that other people did. This summer, Julie is those other people.
“My friends are not going to approve,” she laughs. I laugh with her as I finger her sex. Of course they won’t approve. A city girl in college to get a career doesn’t fuck a beach guy with no future like me. She should be dating men with careers and letters after their name. She shouldn’t be fucking a guy who works for his mom and barely made it through high school. Her friends wouldn’t approve and sure as hell her parents won’t approve.
Shit, I am not sure if Julie approves of this herself.
I slip inside her and I don’t care anymore. My hips roll in time with the waves crashing outside. Her breasts quiver with each thrust while a lazy smile spreads across her face. We fuck on her rented bed and keep an ear out for her friends coming back. If they do, we’ll have to stop. I doubt we would.
Her summer tanned thighs bring me to life.
They are only renting the place for the week. When their time is up, Julie will make an excuse and stay with me for the weekend. She’ll spend her time on the beach while I work and then she will spend her time under me when I get home. A weekend will stretch into weeks. Weeks will stretch into a few months. She will get concerned calls. She will laugh about it as I eat her.
But summer will eventually end. The days will turn cold and the summer people will stop coming. Julie will remember her dreams of a good job and a responsible husband. She’ll want to go back to the city. She’ll ask if I want to move. She won’t argue when I say no.
But that is at the end of Summer. Today I am fucking her in a house I could never afford. Today Julie will scream my name and not care if her friends hear. Tonight we will have sex under the moon on the beach and the next day we will do a filthy act of fucking that she will never repeat but will always treasure.
Julie is my song this summer and I plan to sing her every day.
5 Responses to “Fiction: Summer Song”
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Lovely summer tribute story.
That is beautiful and I adore your talent for describing a sex story via metaphors and similes in relation to the environment and theme that it’s set in.
It definitely adds a unique characteristic a sex scene usually depicting the same act that’s been written a thousand times by you.
It’s a nifty quirk that tickles me pink and one I try to take note of myself.
Definitely brings a fresh perspective to it for every read, I enjoyed this tale very much ^^
(for some reason, she is now thinking of the musical ‘grease’ and the song ‘summer lovin’) >.>
That was awesome – and absolutely lovely to read on a cold winter’s day :)
xx Dee
Musns- Thank you.
Mystique- It is something I learned from the Great Vicki Morgan when she wrote a lesbian threesome and each girl had metaphors related to an element like wind or fire. It unlocked something in my creative process for exactly the reason you describe :)
Dee- Ha, nice to bring a little summer to a winter place.
This is a great little summer tale, just dreamy to make it sing. :) I love it.