OUTER BANKS – Marjorie

I am a 60+ year old bi woman. Many of my stories, originate in memories and recent events in my life. All contain a combination of real and fictional characters with names changed as appropriate to protect the ‘guilty.’ They are memoirs spiced with a kinky imagination. I am submissive by natural inclination in most relationships, most often extremely submissive in sex.

If you like kinky mature women I hope you will enjoy my stories and comment on what you liked and perhaps didn’t like to help me improve.

I apologize in advance if my stories seem to be just a continuation of my life journal. Where possible I will provide a reference back to the story that provides the necessary background and I sometimes, to better frame the scene, include passages from stories I have previously published.

From my story OUTER BANKS

As Charles and I climbed the stairs to my cabin he said, “I’ll come by tomorrow to fetch Annie. I know her, I saw how she and Bailey were looking at each other all through dinner and I’m sure Annie will be staying the night.”

We were in the cabin now. Charles picked up his keys from the counter and with me in tow started for the back door and his car. I stopped walking and pulled him back. “Charles, can a girl at least get a kiss goodnight?” He leaned in and kissed me. A gentle, soft, I love you kiss.

I took his hand and led him into the bedroom, saying, “Instead of coming to get her in the morning, wouldn’t it be easier to just invite them over for breakfast?”

Standing in the bedroom with the moonlight coming in the window, the only light in the room, we kissed again, this time at his initiative, and slowly took each other’s clothing off caressing every part that we revealed. As we stood naked in each other’s arms I felt his body reacting to mine as he hardened and began to push against me. He moaned just a little when I reach down and grasped it stroking him gently.

We moved to the bed and almost fell in. This was not the man I remembered this was a new gentle considerate loving man but still a man who knew what he wanted in bed and took it. I needed that.

He pushed my head down to take him in my mouth and later when he returned the feeling with his mouth and tongue he did not stop until I was feeling the waves of the first of the orgasms I would have that night.

When he held, sucked on and caressed my breasts he kiddingly said, “I remember being here before. Thanks for taking care of my girls all this time.” How could he know I call them them my girls.

The sex we had was not anything like I expected. It was fun, light hearted and kinky with lots of dirt talk and yet many very intense moments.

Charles seemed to know me and my needs almost as though we had been lovers for years. When he entered me he was careful to wait for me. When the wave of pleasure from my orgasm was just fading he did not stop, he intensified his thrusts slamming my hyper sensitive clit over and over pushing me to an orgasm that seemed to go on forever, wave after wave wracking my body with pleasure.

Later as we lay in each other’s arms and still later with him spooning behind me I saw that the narrow shaft of that new moon moonlight coming in crossing over us in the bed.

He whispered, “Annie, I love you!”

Three months later, on the beach, I changed my name and started a new life. I became Anne Marie LaVeau Johnson. My ancestors would be proud of the woman I had finally become. My family including Charles still call me Robin and that is fine.

~~~

OUTER BANKS — Marjorie

A King Tide happens when the sun and moon align to change the gravitational pull on oceans. These especially high tides can cause or worsen coastal flooding. When King Tides, what I call Voodoo Tides, happen they can bring change not just to the ocean, the shore, but also to my life and my direction.

That Voodoo Tide night, Charles actually did leave for home I only stopped him in a dream. My marriage on the beach only happened in that same dream.

Charles is a good man, a wonderful lover and a friend BUT I do not love him. I was hoping that our friendship would grow into love as it did for me and Beth but it did not happen.

After he leaves that night I am alone on the deck of my cabin, it’s late and I am drinking again. That is bad but it dims everything, all the pain and that is good. I’m sure I can hear Bailey and Annie, laughing in the cabin next door.

I am still missing Beth. She has been gone almost two years now and there is not a day, not one fucking single day, that her memory does not haunt me. As I walk the beach I imagine some of her ashes have washed up onto the sand and perhaps her spirit is walking beside me.

Bailey, like her mom Beth, seems to be uncompromisingly bi. I still greatly regret what happened with her. A mother should never, not even a step mom. (Dear reader, read my story BAILEY for details of what happened.)

Some time after her fling with Annie was over and she returned to New England, Bailey sent me a picture of her with her current lover, a black girl, and my heart stopped. I could have been looking at a picture of myself with her mom Beth thirty years ago. I cried.

Making love to Bailey was perhaps the biggest mistake of my life. She could be Beth at 30, her voice, her body, her mannerisms, her face, her kiss, everything.

I am not going back to Florida. I belong here, on this beach, in this little house. It is paid for and I could, some day perhaps, be a legend black lady beach bum. So, I have no woman in my life, I have a wonderful man I don’t love. I will start over, let Charles go and find again someone, a man or woman, I love so much that without them I would die.

I can live a Lesbian life or a heterosexual life but having both, I fear, is not going to happen again for me. I’m too old.

The bottom line is I’m starting to think I actually need a year or two alone. Too much has happened, far too quickly.

~~~

Bailey has gone back to her life in New England and Annie has gone off to school in Colorado, very far from mother ocean. Charles stays in touch, an occasional breakfast or nice walk on the beach, but he did not take rejection well and I fear I have done forever damage to our friendship. He may never really understand but he is a great guy and will find a much better woman than me, one who actually loves him.

I am attempting some minor renovation of the rental cottage next door and building a carport next to my cottage to shield my convertible from the sun. It says a lot that Charles referred me to a friend rather than taking the job himself.

I’m staying here in my 600 square feet for the foreseeable future. The ocean is my healing balm and Beth is just offshore waiting to swim with me. I need more time to say goodbye.

The other cabin went back on the rental market last Friday.

~~~

When one door closes…….

On an early morning walk this week I met a woman who looked to be about my age. I was just at the turning point of my morning two mile walk and she was coming the other way with her little dog Daisy. We said hello at the same time, nice and easy. We walked and talked and I found out her name is Marjorie, yes the old fashioned spelling. She was staying at one of the dreadful “upscale” hotel / resorts on the beach about 1/2 mile beyond my cottage.

When we approached my house she still had some distance to travel so I invited her in for morning coffee and Daisy for a cool drink. Sitting on my deck under the awning I learned a little more about her. Marjorie told me she was on the second week of an “escape.” Her husband of thirty-five years died of Covid early in the pandemic and she returned to the ocean to, like me, grieve and plan next steps.

Nice woman. After a quick tour of my cabin, we talked about what it was like to live in a small space and about rentals. When she was planning her escape she was looking for a long term rental like my cabin. I explained that I owned the cabin I live in. Like it was scripted she said it was exactly what she wanted. I told her the name of the rental agent for the cabin next door but did not tell her I owned it.

Talking to her was like reading a book by opening it at random places. Disconnected snippets of her life and history, her opinions about politics and her views on sexual relationships and simple friendship. Like looking in a mirror on some things, polar opposites on others.

We talked about her husband, a dentist, my wife Beth and both families. When I mentioned Beth she said she had “girlfriends” off and on her entire life. Don’t know why, I didn’t really take offense, but I felt a need to clarify and told her that Beth was more than just a girlfriend, she was my wife.

Marjorie just smiled and told me that she understood but the only difference, she thought, was that she was married and had a husband she loved and one child by him when she met the first woman she loved. She was, I felt, very open and honest with me, a virtual stranger, about her sexuality almost to the point of being blunt. She told me it all worked out when, after struggling with the problem, she was honest with her hubby and shared that woman and later others with him. Marjorie told me how she felt the first time the three of them were together, being jealous of both and not really wanting to share either. She smiled, touched my hand and told me she didn’t know why she was telling me all this, she had never shared those feelings with anyone.

As we talk I notice that Marjorie has a tattoo bracelet on her right wrist. Very narrow but extremely detailed and colorful, “a gift from a lover” she said. I also notice that she has a blue Dolphin tattooed to the left side of her neck with what appears to be a date under it, perhaps a name in script. I find myself wondering, no wanting to see, what other art is hidden on her body under her clothing.

She ended the conversation in an interesting way, almost inviting me to push the subject, by saying that even as she moves into her sixties she still loves sex but now, complicated relationships are more difficult to manage and most often unnecessary for sexual relief and pleasure. She told me that for her, sex these days is better characterized as “catch and release.” If the chemistry is there sex might follow, then again maybe not, but never really more than sex and perhaps friendship, certainly not love. Marjorie explained further that her relationship with her hubby was what she thought was very traditional with him almost always taking the initiative in sex. Her “other life” as she put it, the women in her life over the years, the times with both her hubby and her woman, was just the opposite with her taking a decidedly dominant role.

She is looking directly in my eyes. She pauses and puts her hand tentatively on my knee. I feel her warmth travel along my thigh to my center. She says, “I sometimes paint as a hobby. Deep in your eyes I see green. I would love to paint your portrait someday and try to capture that color. Who knows what the future might hold.”

I find myself questioning my own chemistry with her. She sees it in my expression and smiles inviting me to push the question. I do not.

Marjorie is 61. I initially think, but do not know, that she is mixed race. Light olive skin, perhaps part Italian with maybe some Hispanic ancestors. In this day of often blended race my imagination runs wild. Could she just be a White girl with an early summer tan?

Not at all average, her firm breasts are round and high on her chest. Her nipples, visibly pressing against her top suggest she is not wearing a bra. She has the very blond hair that screams Norwegian ancestors and eyes that are the steel light blue that drills holes.

We part company both saying we hoped to see each other again. When she stoops to harness her dog I see very clearly that she is wearing a thong and her revealed pale butt cheeks hint that her olive skin may indeed be just that early summer tan. A long, also colorful, scroll tattoo is on her low back partly hidden just above the top of her shorts.

As she walks away I see from her toned very defined legs that she, like me, spends a lot of time walking. I see her look back at the rental cottage. She sees me watching and smiles and waves. I watch her walk and see more clearly the tan lines of her halter top and shorts covering very clearly defined muscular butt cheeks working under the fabric as she walks.

I find myself wondering if when people watch me walking away they think I also look sexy. I sometimes, ok often, think the most sexy, most beautiful part of a woman’s body is her butt and legs.

~~~~

The rental agent called me on Monday afternoon. There is an offer to lease the cottage through Thanksgiving at a price lower than weekly rentals but…cash in advance and with the pandemic rentals have been far from dependable. The cabin is less rented after Labor Day as well, so I took the offer. I asked if Nancy, the rental agent, had done a background check and she confirmed, Marjorie Driscoll, a recent widow, 61 years old, retired special needs teacher, a perfect credit score, three adult children, two grandchildren who will be visiting and a small dog that she needs permission to have with her in the cabin. I asked Nancy to not say anything about me owning the cottage.

Another door opens? At least a friend I think? Someone to walk the beach with?

Life went on at Blue Heron cottage. Yes, I have named my cabin. I even went out and bought one of those signs that until now I thought we’re quite tacky. As I nailed it in place over the beach side door I was thinking that a dark feathered Great Blue lives it’s life with all the other predominately white shore birds. They live in harmony. If only we humans could do the same. I also bought a sign for the rental cottage. It read “Dolphin.” Maybe, just maybe, I’m reminded of her tattoo, that name will mean something to Marjorie.

A foolish woman thinks foolish things. My most recent foolishness came when for some reason I cannot fathom, except for Marjorie, I decided that I too needed a tattoo. Imagine the look on the tattoo artists face when I asked about it. He is a light skinned Black man with arms covered with colorful tattoos. He was honest and polite and asked what I had in mind and warned me that given my skin tone, even in color “image definition” would be a challenge. He stepped carefully around the fact that on my skin any tattoo was going to be barely visible. When I explained what I wanted, why and where I wanted it he agreed.

The skin of my breasts, especially in winter, is lighter. I asked him to tattoo on my right breast the outline of a Dolphin jumping over the letter “B.”

Marjorie was scheduled to move in at the end of June, just in time for the 4th of July holiday. I called Nancy, my real estate agent, again and asked that she be sure the cleaning service did an exceptional job. Nancy knows wine so I asked her to personally select wines to fill the cottage wine rack. We also agreed that the cottage needed new fresh, quality linens, sheets, bath towels and a few colorful beach towels. She agreed to see to it. She suggest and I agreed that a welcome basket might be appropriate with local specialty foods and a selection of current Outer Banks attraction brochures and a book about the history of the area.

~~~~

Every year at the end of June I participate in a reunion with the three women who helped me start the business we eventually sold. We were and still are, “The Four!” Each year we get together in a different place. One of us plays hostess and decides the location and makes hotel, meal, tour and sometimes even ‘bail’ arrangements. We each pay for our own travel to the chosen destination but all other costs are split equally.

We have been to Disney Land, Puerto Rico, Jamaica, the Galápagos Islands, the Florida Keys and several National Parks. This year it is Melany’s turn and I’m delighted she chose Charleston South Carolina as our destination, close enough to drive and very familiar low country territory. Mel moved to Charleston a few years ago when she met Julia.

Melany was the first non-technical person we hired. It only took a few months in business for us to realize that we needed someone to “run the office” if we were going to succeed and not work ninety-five hours a week. I hired Melany when in the interview she told me, “Hire me and I will be your Personnel, Admin and Finance departments. I will help you get the funding you need to grow the business and eventually sell it.”

Melany did all that she said she would and more. A year later my two partners and I made her the fourth owner/partner of the company. Four woman out to beat the world! Melany’s education and background were in finance and she constantly outpaced us all with her investment savvy. In the years following the sale she grew her wealth and helped the three of us with investment advice that gave us all financial independence.

Our destination this year is Melany’s home. Two years ago Mel and Julia bought a historic plantation home on a river near Charleston. We also this year, get to meet Julia, ” Julie”, for the first time. Meeting Julie is a compromise from a suggestion a few years ago that we include our husbands and wives in the annual reunion. That plan worked for a couple of years but people die and get divorced and sometimes just don’t have a husband or wife to bring along. We very quickly abandoned the idea.

Julie is an exception, I think, because she is a woman and “The Four” are all women and we can’t expect her to move out of her own home while we visit. I have also, after some conversation with Melany, come to think Julie is a “TrophyWife” if it’s even possible for a woman to have a “Trophy Wife.” We’ll see.

Melany is a lesbian with little or no experience with or interest in men and was when we hired her. At that time I was married to a man and I guess, as you might think, I was heterosexual. Melany in her own way helped me confirm my bi-sexual nature. Mary and Stephanie, the other partners, were heterosexual but neither were married at that time.

In those early days Melany and I talked about everything. I confided in her the problems I was having with my husband and the swinger lifestyle he wanted us to live. Melany was the first person to suggest I might be sexually submissive. I had not actually thought about that, not in the way she presented it. She is the first person in my life to say out loud that my sexual preference is to “do as I am told.” She was and is correct. She is also the first person to help me explore it.

About six months after Melany joined us and after she and I had worked many late nights together I received an internal email from an email address I did not recognize. It read simply.”I know that I can have my way with you.” I had not heard (read) the phrase ‘have my way with you’ in a long time but I knew what it meant. The email continued, “If you want to know more, and play the game, simply reply ‘Yes’ to this email. Do not mention this email to anyone or try to find out who I am.”

This happened at a time when I was under considerable stress and I needed the break from daily business routine. I replied “Yes.”

Sometime later, maybe a few days, I received another email. “You will receive email ‘tasks.” You can back out of this at any time for any reason. Simply reply ‘Stop’ to any task assignment. Your first task is simple and a test of sorts. Remove your bra and put it in the top left drawer of your desk. I will retrieve it from there for my own pleasure later. Put your blouse back on and unbutton the top four buttons. Remain that way for the rest of the day. I know you have a meeting with clients today. Give them a thrill.”

I did what I was told.

The following day the bra was gone but nothing else happened for about a week.

The flowing Monday I arrived at the office early at is my custom. An e-mail was waiting.

“Good morning! I heard you put on quite a show last week. Did you enjoy it? I know you did. Your task for today is to remove your panties and bring them to Melany’s office, she is not there. Put them in her top right desk drawer and leave. Return to your office and wait.” Of course I did as I was told.

That was it. No more tasks, nothing else. I resigned myself to believing the bra and panties tasks were just a test of some kind. I did one day, a while later, find a thong in my desk drawer. It had recently been worn and was moist. I was curious and a bit of a slut, I guess, because I was smelling it when Melany walked in. I could not tell if she knew what it was. I quickly returned it to my desk drawer.

A few months later I was working late and went out to the office kitchen for a drink, coffee, anything really. Melany was in the kitchen making coffee. She looked at me and said, “Hi Robin, it looks like you and I are the last of the troops. Everyone else is gone for the day.”

I answered her, “I’ve got at least another hour. Why don’t you call it a day and go home too?”

She smiled and said, “Just another hour and I’m done.” With that she handed me a coffee and we both went back to our offices.

Ten minutes later Melany walked through the open door to my office, closed and locked the door behind her. I didn’t really notice her closing the door or locking it. I looked up and said simply, “What’s up?”

She did not really answer but walked over my desk and dropped an large mailing envelope on the desk top, “Open it!”

My bra and panties fell out of the envelope. It was Melany all along. She looked at me and said, “Put them on while I watch and put what you are now wearing in the envelope.” She sat in a chair and watched as I did what I was told. When I was done she took the envelope and left the room. Not a word was spoken. Neither of us ever mentioned what happened. Just another test?

More than a year later we celebrated the third anniversary of the start of our business at our favorite restaurant, Ralph’s. Just the four of us and a few employees who were not out on assignment. By that time Melany was a Partner.

We had a private room at the restaurant and as the party wound down my phone message alert vibrated. It was a message from Melany who sat just across the table. The message read simply, “Drive me home?” Thinking that she might be ill or perhaps had too much to drink I nodded ‘yes’ and she nodded back.

When we arrived Melany invited me in for a nightcap. Inside she dropped all pretense and came close to me and kissed me, a tentative first kiss. I returned the kiss. Sex with Melany was easy. She knew all my secrets and my needs. Naked in her arms she told me to lick her. I did as I was told and as her thighs closed around me I realized that there was no pretense of a relationship this was just sex for the pleasure and relief. I could not have known that years later I would meet a woman, Marjorie, who would use those words.

Melany and I stayed friends over the years but as opportunities and youth faded actual sex was infrequent. I think that at one time I my filled a need she had for sex and domination. Now with Julie in her life that need for me is gone. There would be no sex for me on this trip.

The first evening was just great. Dinner and drinks at a Charleston landmark restaurant followed by a twilight harbor cruise and of course more drinks. Melany had arranged for a limo to be available to us all weekend so we didn’t even need a designated driver. When we returned home there was time for a nightcap before we all retired for the night. One thing became very clear in those first hours with Melany and Julia. Whatever their relationship was it was not romance. Julia behaved more like a personal assistant than a wife. If the girl had said “yes ma’am” one more time I was going to take her over my knee. Now that was an interesting idea.

As I climbed the stairs with Mary and Stephanie I entered my room and watched as they continued down the hall to their room. That can’t be right, did they just enter the same room?

I chalked it up to the drinks. There were never two more straight laced married ladies than Mary and Stephanie. The idea that they…?? Time for bed. Big day tomorrow.

Now, in a guest room in Melany’s home I’m remembering the many times Melany and I had sex just for the pleasure of sex and the relief it brought. I had brought along a battery powered friend and used it.

Julia came around in the morning to wake us for breakfast. Not just any breakfast but a breakfast served on their patio overlooking the river. Julia did not actually join us for the meal. She seemed busy managing the staff they had brought in to cook and serve.

We spent the day in Charleston sightseeing, eating and yes of course more drinking. In the early evening we had dinner in still another fine restaurant. Followed by a moonlight sail just outside Charleston harbor. We returned late and stayed up even later talking and catching up with each other’s lives. I had a chance to ask Melany about Julia. Her only comment, “Julie does as she is told. She meets my needs.” Mary joined the conversation so the subject quickly changed away from Julia.

As we were winding down for the day Melany came over near me and discreetly told me, “I’ll send Julie along to your room later and you can judge her for yourself.”

There was a knock at the door. I had actually either forgotten about the Julia visit or I thought I had misunderstood Melany. I opened the door and Julia entered my room and closed the door behind her. While the door was open I heard Mary and Stephanie talking and laughing as they walked down the hall.

I was dressed only in the reunion tee shirt Melany had bought us all for the weekend. Pink with a large number “4” on the front and my name on the back like a football jersey. Julia was wearing the same shirt with her name on the back but no number on the front. Julia, Melany’s Julie, a White woman, about 35 years old, very attractive with eyes that laughed and a smile that warmed your heart. I asked her what was going on. She smiled and said, “Mel sent me here and told me you would know why she sent me.” I did know.

I took her hand and led her to the bed. As we sat on the bed I asked her, “Do you always do what you are told.”

Julia looked directly at me and said, “Yes, ma’am but you have not told me what to do yet.”

I had more questions first, “Where is Melany?”

Julie smiled and said, “Melany told me you might ask that question. She is watching us.”

Not sure what she meant I asked, “Do you mean she is somehow watching the two of us?”

Again Julie smiled and said, “Not just us two.” She reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. She retrieved a TV remote control. Not the remote I had used just a little while ago to catch the news but a different one. She turned the TV on and tuned it to channel 98. There we were, on TV, the two of us sitting on the bed. Julie pointed to the corner of the room where a light blinked off and on, a light I thought was part of an alarm/security system. Before I could say a word she changed the channel and we were watching Stephanie, naked in her room approaching Mary lying naked on the bed.

Julie smiled and said, “Melany likes to watch people.” She again changed the channel and we were looking at Melany sitting in what appeared to be her bedroom. Before I could say a word Melany spoke through the TV, “There you are! Yes I can see you, hear you and speak to you. I may join you after a while but in the meantime, Julia, please change the channel back to Mary and Stephanie. Robin, they cannot see or hear you but Julie will set the TV so you can hear them As the channel changed a saw Stephanie’s hands on Mary’s knees pushing her legs apart. I saw the pure lust in her face as she lowered her head between Mary’s thighs. I heard more in her voice when she paused and said, “I love you Mary!” I don’t think I had ever watched two women make love before, especially two women I knew. There was something so intimate and yet so very wrong about watching them without them knowing I was watching.

We could hear them. This was not just sex. They were in love.

We watched and listened as they talked.

“Mary, I know we have this conversation every time we are together but I really think we need to tell our husbands that we love each other and want to be together. Maybe we can work it out with them.”

“Steph, I know this hurts. It hurts me too. I have not changed my mind. I do love you. If I could do it over I would. I would leave him and that life for you. We should have acted long ago when we first knew. We are both 55 years old. Think of the children, the grandchildren!”

“Mary, my life is a lie. I let a man I really didn’t love, not like I love you, fuck me and make me pregnant, not once but three times. Those children now have children of their own. I cannot leave them all behind.”

“Aw fuck Steph, we are cowards. Just hold me tonight. Tell me again how much you love me.”

Melany stopped the pain, “Julie, turn off the sound from their room. Do it now!”

She continued, “Robin, I think Julie has the most beautiful breasts. Take her top off so I can see your face when you see them for the first time. Tell me what you are thinking as you touch them.”

I had a slightly different idea. I took her arms and raised them over her head and told her to keep them there. I reached out and took her breasts in my hands through the fabric of her top.

I pulled her top over her head. I looked at her breasts and asked, “The truth…… are they natural?” I then further commented, “These could be my breasts when I was 30.”

Julia answered, “Yes, they are real.”

I reached out and caressed them again remembering my own breasts at that age, firm and proud. Julie’s were exceptional. They were not large in the traditional sense but rather long and firm extending straight out from high on her chest. When I gently pinched her nipples she moaned ever so gently.

Melany spoke again but this time to Julie, “Julie, is she wet?”

Julie reached down between my legs and put her hand in my panties, “Yes ma’am.”

As I looked at her waist and below it her mons and the strip of pubic hair leading from just above her clit to her belly button. I saw the very pronounced flair of her hips and I could see the very generous curve of her butt. I took her face in my hands and kissed her biting her lip and pushing my tongue deep inside her mouth and running it along the front of her teeth. It felt good to be in control. Her hands found my breasts and were kneading them squeezing them roughly. I wanted more, “Pinch my nipples! Hard!” She did as I asked but my need was greater than her willingness to cause pain.

“Julie, pinch them hard! Twist them! Hurt me!” She was still reserved so I slapped her butt, very hard, “Julie, do as I say! Don’t be afraid!” She then did as I asked.

“Oh fuck! Yes Julie!” She smiled.

“Julie, get on your hands and knees over me. I want your breasts hanging over my face.” She did as I asked and for the first time I got a good look at how large and beautiful they really were. I lifted them with my hands and sucked them. It was time to test dear sweet timid Julia. I didn’t need to ask. I could tell by her reactions that her nipples were very sensitive. They seemed to be extending as she became aroused. I took one between my fingers and pulled down. If she were nursing I would have been milking her. I saw her back arch and heard a low under her breath, “Oh fuck, yes!” I then did them both at the same time but continued to hold them extended down. She moaned and her legs, thighs were twitching. I asked, “Did you?” She did not answer directly but I heard a deep “ohhhhh!”

I told Julia to shift her position to sit on my face. Again she was timid and I pulled her down as I pushed my tongue as deep inside her as I could. She was very wet and my face was covered in her. I pushed hard on her hips causing her to lift off me allowing me to lick her butt hole. She came again almost right away this time squirting on my chin and neck.

I told her to lay on her stomach and she did as she was told. As I pushed her legs apart and touched her vagina my hand came away soaked as I thought it would. I used her own liquid to lubricate her butt crack. I reached over to the nightstand and got my vibrating dildo. I turned it on and ran it along her butt hole. She did not resist but instead used her own hands to spread her cheeks inviting me to play. As I began to apply pressure she pushed back and said, “Do it! Fuck me there!”

Julia had a perfect butt hole. A very tight star fish shaped opening without a flaw. I pushed and she pushed back. She was fucking my dildo and she suddenly tightened, let go of her cheeks and moaned a low deep, “aww fuck yes!”

I took control and kept moving the vibrating dildo in and out, in and out, deeper with every stroke and her moan did not stop,”ohhhhhh!”

I knew that if she were at all like me, this was the moment. Take it now or it will be lost. I used the flat of my palm to spank her right cheek, then her left, then her right again harder every time. At first she resisted and tried to squirm away then she submitted and spread her legs as if anticipating what I would do. At first she was asking me to stop saying it hurt too much. Then she pushed back saying “Yes yes almost, yes!”

I reached between her legs and slapped her clit hard and she exploded. I had experienced that all encompassing orgasm before but never watched someone else. Her face contorted and she screamed, no words, just a long primal scream! I held her as she calmed down. She kissed me and thanked me over and over.

I felt her presence more than saw her. Melany was standing there watching us. She smiled.

In the morning, after breakfast, I was on the road back to the Outer Banks. Melany and Olivia would visit me there in the future perhaps, but the reunion was over and I had a long drive ahead.

~~

Traffic was abysmal and the drive took me the better part of the day. I arrived home just as the sun was setting. A few cars and a small camper van were parked behind and along side the rental cabin. Marjorie’s family had arrived. I parked in my new carport and took my few bags inside. As I sat on the deck drinking a Sam Adams ‘Summer’ beer watching the fading sunset, Marjorie approached from the beach with a young girl in tow. She introduced me to her granddaughter Elise and invited me to a barbecue they had planned for the following day. I of course accepted the invitation.

That evening the sound of children playing and laughing next door was something new for my little house. Something new in my life.

The following day I was introduced to Marjorie’s children, their spouses and a long list of children. Everyone happy, laughing and enjoying the day. Sometime during the previous night after I returned a truck had arrived with a trailer. “Bubba’s Bar-B-Que!” The smell from that trailer was known to me. A Carolinas specialty that involved potatoes, corn, sausage, shrimp and spices. I think it’s called “Low Country Boil” or something like that, a feast.

Over the next two days I watched as Marjorie took countless pictures of everyone and everything that happened. Three days later they all left, a small ceremony with each departing family.

It seemed that as quickly as it started it was over.

~~

Morning walk, beautiful sunrise and a voice from behind me, Marjorie.

“Good morning Robin.”

“Good morning Marjorie. Did everyone get back home ok?”

Marjorie was walking alongside and Daisy, the little dog, was working hard to keep up. “Thank you Robin, they did, and thank you for tolerating all the noise.”

“The sound of children playing and laughing is not noise at all.”

As we walked she asked how my reunion went and I explained that it was great and good to catch up but I thought it would be the last one, people are moving in different directions.

Marjorie thanked me for renting her the cabin. When I feigned ignorance she just smiled and explained honestly that her son is with the FBI and when the rental agent ran a background check she was alerted.

“Robin, I really do appreciate the opportunity to rent ‘Dolphin’, I needed a place to regroup after all that has happened.”

Marjorie asked if I wanted to join her for beer and burgers and maybe an evening walk. I agreed to come over around six.

In the heat of the summer I enjoy my outdoor shower. Now with some remaining work to be done on my carport my shower only has privacy from the beach but only Marjorie might see me so when we returned I showered. I saw her on her deck watching.

At six when I climbed her steps she was on the deck painting. I looked and what she was doing was painting portraits of her grandchildren from pictures she had taken. Marjorie was a good artist! She explained that she would paint each child and if possible each family and send it to them as a souvenir of the weekend together.

I discovered something new. Marjorie, like me, when she invites someone to dinner, is really asking that they join her in preparing dinner. We cooked, we drank, we talked, we laughed and we ate.

Marjorie continued to be disarmingly honest to the point of being blunt. She told me that she had watched me shower and that she very much wanted to paint a picture of me. I asked, “Do you mean naked?

She did not hesitate. “Robin, I could be careful how I say this but why not just be honest? You have a beautiful body and I have lived a sheltered life. I would love to paint a naked full body picture of you a beautiful mature black woman.” She waited.

When I did not reply she asked me to stand. She took her phone and took a picture of me and showed it to me. “See, you are beautiful!”

I smiled and said, “I never though of myself as ‘beautiful’, ‘hot’ maybe but not beautiful.”

Marjorie laughed and said, “I didn’t say you were not ‘hot’ but you are beautiful, let me show you.”

I really had no idea what was about to happen but I did not have long to wait nor did I resist in any way..

Marjorie approached me and pulled my top off over my head. As she unfastened my bra the backs of her hands touched my nipples and set of a reaction. She was taking pictures as she took my clothes off. When I was completely naked she pushed me to sit in a chair and continued to take pictures some very intimate showing me each picture.

Only once before had someone taken pictures of me naked and I enjoyed watching the obvious physical reaction she was having. Her nipples were pushing hard to escape from her top.

I asked her if she would paint from the pictures she was taking. She said, “Oh, no. These pictures are just to prove to you how beautiful your body is. You will have to pose for me.”

She was sitting right next to me and when I told her I would do it she put her hand on my thigh and leaned in and kissed me, a tentative testing the waters kiss.

I returned her kiss but I wanted more and stood and pulled her close. In an instant her top was gone and our breasts were pressing hard against each other.

We were in bed and I was looking at the color differences in our bodies. My black skin against the brown of her chest, arms and legs and the pale white of her breasts and hips was very erotic.

In her bed and I watched as she pushed my legs up and lowered her head between my thighs. I felt her hands pull my butt cheeks apart and her tongue explore me there.

Marjorie was delicious in every way. When my lips and tongue parted her labia and pushed into her the musk of her vagina was very strong, pronounced. Her fingers were in both of my holes and she was taking what she wanted while pushing herself and her clit against my lips. Suddenly she moaned and my mouth was flooded. Her juices did not have a particular odor or taste. She pulled my face up to hers and kissed me while licking me. I had never experienced a woman licking me before and I wanted more. I put my hand between my own legs and wet my fingers. I then put those fingers in her mouth. When she saw what I had done she sucked my fingers and used her own hands to push my fingers further into her mouth until she gagged.