The afternoon ocean breeze was light, with a faint scent that seemed to erase the cares of the years since Grant's last visit. Why, he wondered, would the smell be different from the sea in California? Or was it not the air bringing back memories, but rather the memories coloring his feelings?

Whatever the reason, he felt exhilarated. Refreshed. As if he were beginning to emerge from a years-long funk. Renewed by the firm sand beneath his trainers; the high, wispy clouds; the fresh breeze swishing through the heavy forest to his left.

Or maybe it was the waitress he'd met at the hotel last night. The one with wine-colored hair and pale blue eyes, who'd smiled enticingly and grinned at his clumsy attempts to flirt. Bett, that was her name. After the last few years and the unpleasant divorce, he hadn't sought female companionship for a while, and it was pleasant to feel drawn to one.

More so to believe that she had seemed to find him attractive, too, even though she must have been a decade or more younger than him. Maybe she'd be working tonight, too. He hoped so.

Ahead, he could see the river. Fast-flowing, cutting a deep trough into the beach. There were warning signs close by, but Bett had said that the bridge was still maintained. He recalled that local residents would repair the bridge each year. It hardly seemed worth the effort for the one or two dry months, before the fall rains started and drift logs smashed into the bridge, making it again unusable.

But this part of the forest was almost pristine, not invaded by tourists - or at least, that's how he remembered it - and Bett told him that this held true. For a couple of months, the far side of the river became a private cove.

He stopped halfway along the bridge, which swayed slightly under his weight, but held firm. Beneath him, water surged. It might be possible to cross without the bridge - this was barely more than a stream, but the force of the water made it impossible to think of as anything other than a fast-flowing, narrow river. You could easily get swept away. The ocean was only a few yards away, and current from the river would still be dangerous.

Continuing on, the beach widened, the forest opening up to the left. The next few hundred yards were what made the bridge worth maintaining: clean, rippled sand, with some scrub bushes. Trees in the forest had shallow roots, and on the forest's edge, high wind and storms would often topple trees. That had happened here, many years ago. Deeper in, protected from the salt and the gales, other trees would establish themselves quickly, often using the rotting fallen trunks as nutrition, but so close to the wind and the sea, the forest was recovering more slowly, leaving a small clearing, with no more than large bushes as yet.

Through one of those bushes, Grant caught a movement of bright color. Thinking that there must be an animal, he stopped, and approached the bush slowly, to see it without disturbing it.

What he saw was not what he had expected.

Behind the bush, in a clear area, a girl was sunbathing. A pair of brightly-colored blankets were spread out on the sand, and she lay at the center of one, topless, her tanned breasts in full view.

The second thing was the bright burgundy dyed hair. The half-naked lovely girl stretched out before him was Bett, whom he'd hoped to see again. Well, he was seeing her; seeing much more of her than he'd anticipated.

Even as he stared, Bett sat up, her firm breasts swaying slightly. Grant stood stock-still as she squeezed lotion into her palm, and smoothed it over her smooth, tanned stomach and those delicious breasts.

They were slightly paler, he noticed. She did spend time in the sun with them covered, but they were dark enough to show that topless sunbathing was a regular pastime for her.

He realized that there was a growing tension within his shorts, and the desire to keep watching warred with discomfort over prying. He needed to give her privacy, and as soon as she was safely looking in another direction, he retreated slowly.

Safely away from the bush, he found a stick, and let it clatter against another bush. Then he whistled as he approached the clearing. That should give her plenty of warning.

It worked; when he passed the obscuring bush, Bett was lying face down, her top unfastened but in place beneath her. He affected to notice her for the first time.

"Oh, um, hello!" he said.

Bett looked up and smiled at him. "Hello, Mr. Keller," she said.

He felt a small thrill as she recognized him so easily. "I was just passing," he said, "but please call me Grant."

The girl reached behind her to tug her straps into place, and started tying the one behind her neck. Her movements threatened to reveal more, and his memory gave solidity to the shadows below, and he had to will his eyes to stay on Bett's face.

"Don't get up," he said. "I don't want to disturb you."

She frowned and finished snugging the lower strap behind her back. "You won't stay for a while?"

"Well, yeah, if you don't mind," he said.

Bett sat upright and pulled her pale yellow top into place. Grant shunted his imagination aside again, and sat on the blankets where she indicated.

"I was hoping I'd see you at the hotel again, this evening," he said.

Bett ran her fingers through her hair, dislodging some sand as she teased it back into place, the dye glinting magenta in the sunlight. "Not tonight," she said. "It's my day off."

"Then I'm glad I did happen across you," said Grant, and was rewarded with a smile.

"Last night you said you used to live near here?" Bett asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, well, about fifty miles. Close enough to visit occasionally. I was a teacher. Then my wife decided we needed to relocate." He shrugged. "So for the last seven years I've lived in California."

"You're married?"

Grant thought he detected a sharp edge to the girl's tone. "No," he said. "Well, not anymore. It didn't work out."

"Sorry to hear it," Bett responded, more gently.

"Yeah, well, it happens," he said. "No kids; it was a clean enough break. And needed."

"You still live in California?"

"Technically, yes" he said. "I'll be moving next month. I'll be at the U, teaching English."

"Oh?" Bett raised her eyebrows. "So you'll be local?"

"Uh-huh," Grant replied.


The breeze faded some, the heat becoming uncomfortable in its absence.

"Want to take a look inside the forest?" Bett asked. "The shade might be good about now."

"Sure," Grant replied.

Bett wiped her brow. "I think swimming first would feel good. You don't have a swimsuit underneath, do you?"

"Nope," he said. "I'll watch."

"Just take your valuables out of your pockets," Bett suggested. "You can swim in those."

"I'll pass on that, but I'll at least get my feet wet," he replied, taking his phone and wallet from the pocket of his shorts to set on the blanket.

Grant walked out to above knee depth while Bett took to the water like a fish. The ocean felt cold compared to the air, but it was refreshing.

With strong strokes, Bett propelled herself back to the shallow water, surfacing to stand just a few feet from him. She moved closer - and closer, narrow waist swaying, tightly-formed cleavage glistening with seawater - and Grant felt a stirring in his belly as he wondered what she was doing.

"You really need to try the water," she said.

She had moved so close that he stepped back, involuntarily, and found himself tripped, toppling backwards into the water. Bett immediately moved away to a safe distance to laugh, as Grant spluttered in the cold water.

"It's cold," he complained.

"No it's not," she said. "You should have taken your tee shirt off."

With no reason to hold back, Grant launched himself into the water, with a splash that left her spluttering, then spent the next few minutes trying to catch up with her, but Bett swam too well for him.

By the time they left the water it didn't feel cold, nor did the air feel too hot.

Grant took his shirt off to wring it somewhat dry. "I don't even have a towel," he groused.

"Stop complaining, the water will keep you cool," retorted Bett, struggling into her own tee shirt. With it in place, she tugged out the knot behind her neck. Her back towards Grant, she lifted her tee far enough to free the lower straps, and drew off her bikini top.

Grant groaned inwardly as she rolled up the wet garment, then set it down on the blanket, her short white tee half-covering her back, pale bikini bottoms stretched tight as she bent over. He worked his way into his still wet tee as Bett shaped her hair with her fingers.

Both slipped sneakers onto bare feet before heading up the beach into the trees.

Within the canopy was a different world. Rich, earthy scents; sounds of small animals in the undergrowth; unusual bird calls. The going was difficult. Just a few yards from the edge, the trees were already crowding each other, stunted saplings filling all available space. Ferns and moss grew everywhere, and vines hung down from high tree branches.

Bett led them towards the sound of the river. Upstream, the water cascaded over a tangle of downed logs and branches, the natural dam forming a wider, shallow lake above. Approaching the lake required carefully climbing the slippery rocks and woody debris within the cool cloud of spray from the fall. By the time they reached the edge of the pool, Grant had to wipe the clear water from his eyes.

"There's a great view up here," said Bett, darting out into the lake to stand on a submerged branch. Grant followed more cautiously, but gasped when his foot sank into the icy cold water. He made it out to where Bett stood, the water freezing his ankles.

"What view?" he asked, seeing nothing but the small lake.

"The view of your face," the girl replied, with a grin, "when you felt the cold. This is glacial runoff."

Grant rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I can tell. I knew that."

Bett laughed as he turned back to the shore, then squeaked. He turned back around in time to see her lose her footing completely. He tried to grab her, but she landed sideways in the water, going under completely for a moment before Grant found her hand and helped her to stand, holding her hand for support as they waded ashore.

"God, I'm so cold" wailed Bett, hugging her arms to her chest.

"You dunked me in the ocean, and froze me in the lake," said Grant, laughing. "Serves you right."

The girl glowered at him. "Hush, you," she said, reaching out to swat him. He dodged her blow, skipping out of her reach. She glared at him again, but was unable to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up as she folded her arms tightly under her breasts.

Grant tried hard not to notice how Bett's soaked tee had molded itself to her. Or how it had become almost transparent. Or how the cold had made her nipples hard, deforming the clear, wet cloth. Or how she rippled as she shivered.

"Do you want to borrow my shirt?" he asked.

"But yours is still wet," Bett objected.

That was true. Still damp from the ocean, and from passing through the waterfall spray. And they would have to pass it again to return. "Yeah, but not cold," he said.

"It's okay," Bett said, her teeth chattering. "Let's just get back to the sun."

Grant led the way. Glancing back - look at her face, dammit - he saw her stumble, as she walked with her arms tightly wrapped around her. He held out a hand, and she took it and caught up to him. He felt her shivering as they negotiated the falls, but she seemed in no hurry to release his hand as the trail became easier.

"Warmth," Grant announced, as they stepped out from the trees. They emerged only a few dozen yards from Bett's belongings. She stretched her arms out as the warmth of the sun washed over them, but didn't release his hand.

"You sure you don't want my shirt?" Grant asked, again.

Bett let go of his hand and picked up one of the blankets. "No," she said, "I'll be okay. Just lie down."

Grant complied, lying on his back. The girl settled down beside him, letting the blanket she carried cover them. Folding her arms over her chest, she moved closer. He felt her nestle against his left arm, her forearms against his shoulder, his elbow pressing into her stomach.

Bett rested her head against her wrists. Her breath brushed Grant's ear as she spoke. "This should work well," she said. "It's only fair that you keep me warm, since it's your fault I'm cold."

"How do you figure that?" asked Grant, turning his head to face her.

She pouted. "You don't want to help me get warm?"

"I didn't say that," he objected. "I just want to know."

"Well," Bett said, "if you hadn't been there, I wouldn't have tried to knock you into the icy water, so I wouldn't have lost my footing."

"You were trying to...?" Grant burst out laughing, and then Bett did the same, her body shaking against his. "Now I have even less sympathy."

"But warming you up could have been hot," she said.

Grant felt a tingling in his belly. "Oh yeah?"

Pursing her lips, Bett raised her eyebrows. "Maybe," she said, her voice husky.

Grant's pants were still slightly damp from the ocean, and now began to feel too tight, but that was good. They would hide the erection that had begun to form. He lifted his right hand and touched her waist, her short tee leaving plenty of room above her swimsuit. Her skin was warm and dry where his fingers explored. "But warming yourself up - you don't plan for that to be hot?"

"Mmm - maybe?" Bett replied, with a mischievous lilt to her voice. She freed her left hand, moved it to Grant's right shoulder, gripping as she lifted herself partway across him. She rested against his left side, trapping his left arm under her stomach, her left breast a cushion against his chest, tight against the side of her tee.

Grant kneaded her waist with the tips of his fingers, while Bett ran the fingers of her left hand over his chest. She hooked her leg over his and pulled herself a little straighter.

His left hand caught between Bett's belly and his left side, Grant extended his thumb and gently scratched her with his nail. She jumped at his touch, and he felt her twitch each time he drew his thumb across. The way she was positioned against him, he figured that his thumb must almost be touching the edge of her bikini bottoms.

Relaxing against him, Bett snuggled close, her face against his neck. She opened her left hand against his chest and squeezed.

Then, suddenly, she rolled off him. "You're still wet," she griped.

"Look who's talking," he laughed.

"No, I mean, how am I going to get dry, when your shirt is wet?" She tugged at his tee. "It's coming off. It will dry better in the sun, anyway."

Grant rolled his eyes, but grinned inwardly and shucked off the garment. When Bett lifted herself back onto him, he caught her waist with his left hand and guided her to lie centered on top of him, rather than against his side. She raised an eyebrow, but quirked a smile, then rested her head on his chest, while Grant's fingers stroked her waist, on both sides, now.

She seemed so comfortable that after a couple of minutes, Grant began to think she'd fallen asleep. But she surprised him, lifting herself to her elbows, a small smile on her lips. He raised his head to touch her mouth with his, and she responded by parting her lips and pushing him back down, so that they could both relax as they kissed.

Bett's hands explored his ribs and waist, while he ran his over her back, and occasionally over her swimsuit. When she lifted herself to fondle his chest, he squeezed her to him, feeling her body against his constrained erection. She relaxed again, her arms against his side, her breasts pressed to his chest, but her groin stayed in contact with his, her thighs either side of his own.

Moving his lips against hers, Grant explored her body, from her ass to her ribs beneath her still-wet tee. As he did, he felt her tongue questing between his lips, and met it with his own. His excitement growing, he lowered his hands to her bikini bottoms and started to knead, slowly making his way down to the top of her thighs, pushing inwards towards her sex.

It puzzled Grant how enthusiastic the girl was to make out with him. At 32, he must be ten years her senior. Why would she want to hook up with him, when she could have had any guy she wanted around her own age? She'd been inviting and playful with him for the whole afternoon.

And she hardly knew him, to be this friendly. Was she a nympho? Well, that might be fun, but it didn't seem to fit her. She wasn't throwing herself at him; it's just that things were moving faster than "friendly" would imply. Clearly, she liked him, and he liked her - could learn to like her a lot, he suspected, given time. He didn't want to jeopardize that.

And, then, was he taking advantage of her? She was young. No more than 22, he thought. Did she really know what she was doing? He hadn't, at 22, though she seemed much more mature than he'd been at that age. Still, was he being entirely fair? He wanted to make her passion grow; he imagined making her need him; he wanted to feel that need, and to satisfy it. But he'd been celibate since the divorce - well, since a long time before that, to be truthful - and he didn't want to impose his own desires on this young woman.

Especially if he might drive her away. He'd prefer to take the time to reach that state of mutual joy rather than try too hard for it and end with nothing.

So he drew his hands back, caressing her waist and back, willing his swollen cock to relax, even as Bett's fingers explored his ribs and chest, and her tongue darted after his.

If anything, Bett's exuberance only grew. It didn't seem that she had any interest in holding back, now that their play had turned more intimate. She detached her lips from his, only to nuzzle and bite his neck, her chest pressed close to his. Grant moved his hands higher up her back, lifting the still-wet tee to squeeze her shoulder blades and massage her upper back with his fingers.

When he slid his hands back down to her waist, she moved her face back, close to his, their lips not quite touching, and extended her tongue to meet his. He felt her pressing her thighs against his, her body against his erection, and he slipped his hands lower, inside her bikini bottoms, and squeezed her ass.

Then back, outside her swimsuit, down to where he was working earlier, before he drew back. It seemed that he had no reason to feel guilty for wanting her.

Abruptly, Bett lifted herself onto her elbows, and frowned at him. He drew back his hands, thinking he'd taken his play too far.

"I'm uncomfortable," she said.

"I'm sorry," he replied.

"Not because of you," she responded, still frowning. "I'm warmer now, but I'm not getting any drier."

"Well, you said my shirt would dry faster in the sun..." His cock strained at his underwear as he heard what he was saying.

She gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, I did. You think mine needs to come off?"

"Well, uhhh..."

She chuckled. "Okay, it's history." She sat upright and pulled the blanket over her as a shroud. Grant could see and feel her moving around, then she peeked out from the edge, holding the blanket wrapped around her. The tee shirt appeared from beneath another edge, and landed, crumpled, beside his own.

Lowering herself back onto him, Bett kept the blanket wrapped around her chest, keeping her arms inside to hold it closed. It didn't seem to make her less amorous; resting her right arm on his chest, she leaned forward to fit her mouth to his.

Grant spread the lower part of the blanket over and behind her, then ran his hands down her waist. Gripping her hips, he lifted her higher, then threaded his right hand around her, over her left thigh, and inside her pants, squeezing her ass for a moment, before trailing his fingers down to the edge of her pussy.

As he stroked gently he felt her free her left hand from the blanket, and use it to grip his waist. Encouraged, he slid his fingers further into her swimsuit, feeling the soft edge of her labia, already slippery to the touch.

She pressed herself closer to him as his fingers continued to explore, along the edge of her lips, and slightly inside, in the soft warmth of her. A slow rubbing motion seemed to excite her, she breathed heavily and squeezed his waist.

Drawing back his right hand, he pushed her slightly back to run his fingers over her stomach. After caressing with his nails right down to her panty line, at which she shivered and sucked his tongue - he slid his hand down the front of the bikini and cupped her pussy firmly, a finger on either side of her sex, curving his fingers to move against her.

Running his left hand up her body, he took her right arm and pried it away from the blanket, twining his fingers into her hand. She had begun to push her sex down, against his hand, and he stroked more firmly. Bett's breathing became more labored, and she drew her face back from his, her eyes wide and lips parted in an expression of passion.

He wrapped his left arm around her, then freed his right hand, caressing her waist as he nuzzled her neck. His right hand moved higher, teasing the blanket out from between them, until it slid over her left breast. His mouth met hers, and he sucked her upper lip, squeezing her breast and pinching her nipple.

Grant rolled to his left, the girl in his arms, until she lay on her back. Then he reached for her swimsuit bottoms with both hands, and a moment later he was slipping them over her ankles, and sliding his right hand over her pussy, penetrating with two fingers.

Bett gasped as he caressed the walls of her sex, and her thighs tightened against him. Her face was flushed, and her eyes closed. Grant kissed her neck, then ducked his head under the blanket in search of her breasts...

They were as full and luscious as he remembered from his earlier sight of her, but now they quivered inches from his face, nipples partially erect. He lowered his lips to her left breast, and sucked.

The girl moved slightly, back arching as she rested her hands on his neck and worked her fingers into his hair. He kept sucking, and stroking her sex, feeling her body tense, tightening around his fingers.

She groaned, pulling his hair, and he moved his hand slightly faster, pressing firmly now on the outside, his palm on her pussy. Her body responded strongly, eagerly. He thrilled to the feel of her, knowing what he was able to give her, what he was giving her now, and mostly what he was about to give her... he sought her clit with his thumb to make the erotic process complete.

"Grant," she gasped. "Wait... stop... oh God..."

He drew back, though her thighs remained taut with need.

"Your... pants," she managed. "They need to be... over there, with the shirts."

Looking up at him, her eyes soft with passion, she reached for his shorts.

"Yeah," he said, "maybe they do."

Even before he'd gotten them completely off, Bett pushed him onto his back. She draped the blanket over her shoulders and took his cock in her right hand, easing it into herself as she lowered her body onto his.

"Be careful," he warned, quietly. "It's been a long time for me."

"It nearly happened to me already," she said. "I want you inside me when it does."

"Me too," he agreed, as she fitted her body to his.

She started to move against him. Grant tried not to respond, not to come too quickly, gripping her hips and caressing her waist.

They kissed, and Bett groaned.

The sound of her arousal turned Grant on, and he grunted with the effort of holding back.

"Let it happen," Bett whispered. "It's okay. I want it to happen to you."

"I want you to come with me," he said.

"I think I might," the girl replied. "Oh, God, I think I'm going to be able to."

Grant gripped her waist. There was no way he could keep from coming now. So he lifted her body and fastened his lips to her left breast, sucking hard, even as he felt himself tumble over the edge. His cock became taut, then exploded in delight.

"Ohh!" gasped Bett. "I can feel it... I'm going to ... AHH!"

He felt her shudder as she came, her tight sex quivering exquisitely around his shuddering, pulsing, sensitive cock. She collapsed against him, gasping for breath, as they shared delight in each other.


After they had separated, they lay on their sides, face to face, under the blanket. Grant ran his fingers over the girl's body. She smiled at him when he caressed her breasts.

"I like the way that makes me feel," she said, snuggling closer.

"I like the way they feel, too," Grant said, squeezing.

"I especially liked the way it made me feel a few minutes ago," she said. "Could you tell?"

"Uhh, yeah," he replied. Then he lowered his face to her left breast and touched his lips to it. "You seemed to like this, too."

"Uh-huh," she agreed, as he gently sucked her nipple. It was swollen, but soft, and he took her breast further into his mouth and rubbed with his tongue. "I still do." After a moment, she added, "That's making me want to have sex with you again."

Grant chuckled. "Not yet," he said, "unfortunately. But maybe I can help with the feeling."

Easing Bett onto her back, he shuffled lower, under the blanket. He took her right breast in his right hand, played with it for a while, then took her nipple between his lips, sucking it back into his mouth. He kept squeezing with his hand as he suckled, until her nipple was hard.

He moved his attentions back to her left breast, working on the right with his left hand while he suckled her left nipple.

When it was fully erect, he returned to her right breast, and trailed the fingers of his right hand down between them, continuing to her belly. There he lifted his hand to dig in lightly with his nails, seeking the sensitive places that he'd discovered earlier.

Venturing further, his fingertips circled her pussy, caressing only for a few seconds before sliding two fingers into her lubricated sex. He rubbed her labia with his thumb as his fingers stroked the inside of her sex, methodically and firmly.

Moving his mouth back to her left breast, he pinched her nipple between finger and thumb while seeking her clit with his right thumb. He found it already firm, and rubbed it gently, which made Bett grip his hand tightly between her thighs.

Bett moved against him as he rocked his hand, and he heard her groan. He took each of her breasts in turn, flapping his tongue against the nipples, making her moan and wriggle.

He rolled off her, lightly rubbing his fingers against her sex. "How does this feel?" he asked, softly?

"Uh, silly... Grant..." she croaked. "It feels very, very good."

He lay beside her, feeling her sex against his fingers, listening to the sound of her breath. After a time, he leaned over and gently kissed her right breast, gently and unhurriedly, feeling Bett rocking her sex against his fingers.

Then he released her completely. Lifting the blanket to move freely, he moved around to crouch between her legs, Using his fingers to part her labia, he lowered his face, sinking his tongue into her sex, and started to slide it around, pressing it firmly against her.

Bett's response was immediate, her thighs tensing, pressing her pussy into his face. He had to resist the urge to suck her into an instant climax, wanting to take more time with her.

Hooking his shoulders under her knees, he gripped her ass with both hands, holding her to himself. Slowly he moved his face and tongue as Bett arched her back and started to bounce against him.

Drawing his tongue out and up, he rasped it over her clit, then pressed hard and shook his face. Bett cried out, and her body went rigid. He released her ass and pushed two fingers of his right hand inside her as the spasms of orgasm took her, and he kept licking and kissing her clit, firmly caressing the inside of her sex, as she moaned in pleasure.


She was in his arms, her breasts pressing gently against his chest. Her eyes were still wide with passion.

"Why did you ask me how I felt?" she asked. "Couldn't you tell?"

"I wanted to hear you," he said. "I wanted to hear your voice when you were horny for me."

"I'm horny for you right now," she replied, laughing. He watched her breasts ripple with her movement.

"Not as horny," he said.

"Grant, I've... I've never been that horny before."


Bett shook her head. "Nuh-uh. You, um, you really turned me on."

Her voice seemed unsteady, and when he looked up he saw that her face was flushed. She scowled, apparently irritated with her own reaction.

"I mean," she said, looking down, "I wanted to have sex with you. I just didn't think you... It matters to you, doesn't it? How I feel?"

"Well, yeah," he said, stroking her waist.

"I figured it would. You seem to be that kind of person. Is that why you're a teacher?"

Grant blinked. "So I can make love to my students?"

She laughed. "No, idiot, because other people matter to you."

"That's not quite the same," Grant argued.

"I hope not," she said with a grin. Then, "Grant? When did you decide you wanted to... to make love to me?"

"How do I answer that?" he complained. "When does attraction turn to lust?" He thought for a moment. "Maybe when we were coming back from the lake. You were so cold, but you hadn't lost your sense of humor."

"Not when you were watching me through the trees?" she asked, eyeing him mischievously. "That was very gentlemanly of you, to make all that noise so that I wouldn't be embarrassed."

"You knew I was there?"

"Well, I had been watching for you, you know."

Grant shook his head. "Well, yeah, it was a lovely sight. But later," he pushed her back far enough to draw his fingers over her breast, "that tee shirt, and the icy water - they had interesting effects on your body."

"Oh, oops." She blushed again. It seemed she didn't care if Grant saw her topless, but was embarrassed by accidentally-revealing clothing. He chuckled and lightly pinched her nipple.

"If you knew I was there," Grant began, "does that mean you were already interested in me?"

"You mean, did I want to have sex with you?" She looked away, eyes wide, and pointed into the distance. Grant's eyes turned automatically in that direction. "Ooh, look, a distraction!" she cried.

They both laughed at that, and Grant tweaked her nipple again.

Bett looked down at his fingers. "You do know what that makes me want to do, don't you?" she asked, sliding her fingers down over his side.

"Uh-huh," Grant replied. "I sure hope so."

Her fingers found his now-recovering cock, which began to expand rapidly at the touch of her fingernails.

"Mmm," she said, turning to lie on her back. "Make love to me?"


Grant adjusted the blanket to cover them as he positioned himself above Bet. He felt her take his cock and stroke her pussy with it. She smiled and wriggled, then guided it into her sex.

He slid in fairly easily, though he took the process slowly in case she was not as wet as she seemed, and there didn't seem much point in hurrying. For all that his erection had become plenty hard, he didn't think he'd be ready to match her pleasure for a long time.

Eventually he was able to relax against her, his chin against her neck, his chest squashing her breasts between them. He gripped her hips to push the last of his length into her, then ran his palms over her sides, roughly, before bringing them forward.

He played with the edge of her breasts, squeezed against him as they were, savoring her closeness.

"Ask me how I feel now," she whispered.

"How do you feel, Bett?"

"I want you," she said, softly.

"I want you, too," he replied.

"I want to make you feel as good as I did," she whispered. "As I do. I want you to stay inside me until it happens to you. I want to turn you on so completely that every time you think of me you'll get a little tickle inside, and you'll know that there's a part of you that still wants me. I want sex with me to feel special for you."

Grant looked at her in surprised. Her face was flushed. "I guess I got carried away," she said, "but... damn, you get me turned on."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his lips to hers. Maybe she was getting carried away, but her small speech had had an effect. Grant's cock felt rock hard, and it tingled down its length.

He started to move, and felt her eager response in her thighs and in her kiss. Her sex slid gently, delightfully, against his cock, and he picked up the pace.

Releasing her breasts, he moved his right hand to her ass, kneading, then sliding it down to press the back of her sex against his shaft. Her eyes widened, and she groaned slightly as they kissed.

He thrust harder, and Bett lifted herself off the sand to meet him, pressing herself to him as he moved. Her hands left his neck, grabbing his side, squeezing his ribs.

As aroused as he was becoming - climax wasn't close, but it was achievable, now - Bett seemed ahead of him. He lifted himself away from her, still pistoning into her, and she looked up at him, lying there on the blanket on the sand, her lips parted, her breathing ragged. Her breasts bounced and swayed as she rocked her hips against him.

He pulled away a fraction more, and slipped his right hand between them, seeking her clit, then finding and pressing against it.

Bett's eyes widened, her lips forming a surprised "Oh". Then she closed her eyes and moaned, her face and breasts flushing pink with arousal. She bucked against him, once, twice, then called out, her body stiffening.

She continued to groan as she came, her legs occasionally tightening, occasionally pressing her sex to him, as he moved more slowly into her.

"You!" she said, unsteadily. "Damn you! It was supposed to happen to you this time."

"It will," he assured her, relaxing against her.

He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both over, her firm body nestling atop him. He rocked his hips slowly, just feeding their mutual arousal while she caught her breath.

Bett tried to lift herself, but tangled her arm in the blanket. "Damn this thing," she muttered, and flung it back behind her. She raised herself again, pressing her sex down onto him.

The sun, now low in the sky, turned her skin golden. The luscious breasts poised above him glowed in the light. She was beautiful, vibrant, and - for now, at least - his. A wash of emotion made him gasp, and suddenly he knew his own release was near.

"I'm almost there," he whispered. "Are you ready to try for one more?"

"God," she said. "I never have this ma... uhh, yeah, I think so."

She moved against him, slowly but firmly. Grant tried not to move too much, not wanting to come too early, now that he was so close. But he was fighting a losing battle.

"Bett..." he gasped.

"I know," she said. "It's okay. Let it happen."

He grabbed her hips as he thrust into her. The wave of passion was about to break - and it did, as he exploded inside her. He wrapped his left hand around her ass, pressing the back of her sex, and lifted his face to suck hard on her breast.

The girl cried out, "Oh! OH!" and then collapsed against him. "Oh, God," she breathed, and he felt her sex pulsing, even as his sensitized cock still spasmed occasionally. "Mmm," she continued, her voice ragged, "I wasn't expecting that."

"So, how do you feel?" he asked.

Bett relaxed on him and kissed him full on the mouth. He reached up to toy with her breast. Releasing his lips, at least, she said, "Content."


Naked, Bett was sitting, her legs to one side, leaning on her left arm and looking down at Grant. Spent, he lay on his right side, his left hand idly caressing her thigh.

"You asked earlier," she said, "how long I've been attracted to you."

"Uh-huh," Grant responded, sleepily.

She smiled. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"About what?"

"I've had a crush on you for a long time, Mr. Keller."

"Um, what?" He frowned. "What am I missing?"

"Think back," she said, sweetly. "I'm sure it will come to you."

He had no idea what she could be meaning. Then, suddenly, he did. A face - a lovely, heart-shaped face. Ash blond, blue-eyed - with pale skin and full breasts. Which a teacher was not supposed to notice.

"Bett... Oh. My. God. Elizabeth. Elizabeth Wilson?"

"You remember," she said, softly. "Before you panic, I'm over my crush. I discovered boys. What I'm feeling now is ... good, old-fashioned, adult lust."

"Elizabeth...?" he was still dumbfounded.

"Bett, please, Mr... umm, Grant. I went by Lizzie at school, but some girls decide that Lizard suited me better. I've spent years escaping that name."

"Bett... Lizard would never have suited you. You were such a lovely girl. Are, that is."

"You never thought so when you were my teacher."

"Oh, I did, Bett. I knew how you felt. I knew it was just a crush, and it was better just to let it pass, to let you grow out of it."

And a teacher isn't allowed to have the thoughts that were so close to the surface at that time. Isn't allowed to see how a fourteen-year-old girl is filling out her gym clothes. Isn't allowed to wish that the adoring look could become more than just a crush...

"Well, I did," she said, then laughed. "Can you tell? When I saw you at the hotel, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn't even believe it was you until you used your credit card. But, crush or not, you were always the sexiest adult I knew. And, guess what?" She took his hand from her thigh and lifted it to her lips. "You still are."

He grinned, a little uncertainly. "You must be... twenty-one now?"

She nodded, then winked. "I've been legal for years, Grant. And I fooled around before that. I'm not a lovesick teen."

"That isn't what I meant. You're still... so young. I'm eleven years older than you."

"Bullshit," she said, matter-of-factly. "That's not a lot. You're feeling guilty about sleeping with the Elizabeth you remember, aren't you?"

Grant nodded, slowly. "Yeah, maybe."

"So we have to keep making love until you understand that I'm not her, right?"

Grant suppressed a wave of desire. "I may not survive."

Bett lay down beside him and stroked his ribs. After a moment, he looked up and smiled.

He reached out and touched her wine-colored hair. "You look good... but, oh, that lovely blond hair..."

"I'm thinking of losing the color," she said. "Did you really like how it looked, before?"

"Elizabeth had the most beautiful hair," said Grant. "I think it would look good on you." He laughed. "I know it would, because I've seen it."

"Did you like me, then, Grant?"

He smiled. "Yeah. But for more details - ask me again in a couple of days."

"Oh, okay," she said. "Then I have a question for you, because there's something else I haven't told you. Let's say there's a 21-year-old journalism major who's hot for the new English professor, but she doesn't graduate for a year, and she doesn't want to stop having mind-blowing sex with him. Is it fair to condemn them both to celibacy?"

He raised his eyebrows, smiling. "You're at the U?"

"Uh-huh," she said, eyes bright. "Senior this year."

Grant grinned. "You know, I seem to recall seeing the answer in a faculty manual," he said. "Sex between students and faculty is permitted only if it's hot."

"Well," Bett said, rolling him onto his back, "I think we qualify."