Clear with a Chance of a Shower

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“It’s so hot!” exclaimed my cousin, Kerry.

Kerry was visiting from Connecticut. She was a university student on vacation and I was the designated ‘guide’ on a tour of the Outer Banks.

I didn’t much care for Kerry, the youngest of my cousins, so I called a few friends as back-up to avoid Kerry’s ramblings about dorm life and unreasonable professors. Plus, the thought of being alone with her all day was enough to move me to daydream about picking up a few hitchhikers to ease the pain.

It was the end of a long day on the beach. The water temperature was perfect and there were few clouds in a sunny blue sky. It was very hot, but that’s normal for the summer there.

We had gathered our towels and other items and were on the way back to the parking lot before hitting the bathhouse.

Kerry wanted to feel the sand under her feet for as long as possible. Before we got to the whiter sand (extremely hot, followed by a wide wooden walkway, just as hot) we all yelled at her to put on her shoes. It was too late. The burning sand had claimed another unwitting barefoot victim. She ran to the outside showers to cool her feet. The rest of us went to the car.

We rode in my friend Sarah’s car because all of our stuff fit nicely. There were four of us, plus Kerry. Still, five fit comfortably and the sound system was awesome. Kerry finally made it to the car, shoes on. We each grabbed our bags of dry clothes and headed for the bathhouse.

I chose this particular beach because of the bathhouse. It was great. It had restrooms, yes. But the best part was outside on the planked floor of the huge wooden building – two aisles, each with seven dressing rooms across from seven showers.

The bathhouse was on stilts, about 2 stories off the ground. You could see the dunes below through a big space under the seats in the dressing rooms. It was perfect. We would each have our own shower and dressing room. Of course, I was not the only one who liked that beach. There was a line forming so we hurried so as not to wait long.

As we waited, standing in our cooling, wet swimsuits, I thought about the one-hour trip to the beach.

In the car, Sarah drove. Kerry sat in the passenger seat and my friends, Jemma and Amy, sat on either side of me in the back seat. Amy’s arm brushed against mine a few times. A couple of times she turned her head when Jemma wasn’t looking and met my eyes for more than the average second when catching someone’s glance.

I thought about our ride all day. Every time I gave it consideration, my body turned to jelly. I had felt something for Amy for a long time but I didn’t want to risk our friendship by telling her.

My musing left me trance-like, I suppose, because Kerry pushed my shoulder, “We can go to the showers now.”

I put my bag in a dressing room and grabbed my towel, dropping it outside one of the showers. Gladly, it wasn’t windy, since a curtain was the only divider between me and everyone else.

I turned on the water, which was only lukewarm, and dropped my swimsuit.

In an effort to remove sand from all the places I could find, I paid no attention to anything else. Then, the curtain started to open on one side. I quickly reached to catch it. Before I could do so, Amy was in the shower with me.

“Um…” was all I managed to say as I stood naked under the water. But I didn’t tell her to leave. She gently put her finger to my lips as if to silence me.

She leaned in quickly, her hands, one on each side of my head, and kissed me under the pouring water. I was so excited to be in that shower, even though a crowd gathered outside waiting their turn to get clean.

I felt her hand between my legs – lightning struck my thighs. I started thinking about the sexy, black bikini she wore. I’d been staring at it all day – the halter, tied in a bow at the base of her neck, the narrow pink waistline of the bottoms.

I grabbed her and pressed her against one of the wooden walls in the shower stall, kissing her neck, making my way to the side where I grabbed a string of the halter in my teeth and untied it. The falling water pushed her top slowly down. Kissing her chest and breasts as they were revealed when the halter fell, I carefully slid her foot to spread her legs.

Standing, I looked into her eyes as she had done in the car. My hand slid between her legs, pulling her bikini to the side. With one finger, I reached inside – warm, soft, wet. As I massaged her near the front of this glorious place, she moved her hips, raised her brow, and continued to stare at my face.

With the same hand, I slid my thumb outside her bikini until she made the faintest sound.

Moving my hand, I watched her face. Her eyes began to close. I never wanted to leave her body, that shower, that beach.

I braided the fingers of my other hand into hers.

Twirling my thumb, pushing it up and around firmly, I kissed her. Her lips didn’t move. Raising and lowering her brow, she seemed to be inside a fantastic dream.

Then she said, “Move faster.”

I quickly moved my thumb up and down her slick bikini bottoms. She opened her mouth and took a breath. I felt her body inside as she tensed her muscles and dug her nails into my hand. Before she exhaled, I covered her mouth softly with mine, a reminder not to make a sound.

Then, she slowly guided my hand away from her body and looked at me, both of us breathing heavily.

Staring at each other, we each saw that we had spoken our heart’s truth without saying a word.

At that moment, that intimate realization, Kerry peeked into the shower, “What are you guys doing in here?”

Reality fell on us like bricks.

Amy, lifting her top, hopped out and casually headed to her dressing room.

“Kerry, go away. I’ll be out soon!” I said. Kerry was clueless about most things. For Amy and I that was a plus.

Dressed and ready to go, we ended up at the car.

Sarah’s car was dark blue and baking in the sun. We all got in to sit down.

“It’s so hot!” said Kerry.

Amy and I brushed elbows.

Kerry turned around and winked an eye.

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