If she were a little younger, she might have driven the fifteen minutes into town to have a drink at some hole in the wall bar rather than spend the night alone. Instead, tonight she embraced the idea of building her own fire on the beach. It was unseasonably cool at dusk, so the fire lady donned one of her husband's casual shirts, a light blue fleece, and jeans over her lace (always lace) panties. She slipped on some leather sandals that wrapped tightly around her feet, left the seaside cottage where she was staying, and headed through the dark forest to the beach.
The fire lady and her husband had shared a vigorous but unromantic morning in bed before he left her on a business trip that could not be put off. She spent a good part of the afternoon in bed finishing what he could not. Then she took a walk down to a secluded, rocky part of the beach, and got up the nerve to finish herself off again. Sitting within a rocky enclosure with her skirt pulled up around her waist, the fire lady's left hand stroked tight circles around her clit while the fingers of her right hand slid into her wet pussy. She imagined a soft, generous tongue probing her swollen clit while she came to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks. Ecstasy filled her whole shivering body and she collapsed on the rocks, her flesh exposed to the scorching sun.
That night, on the beach, the fire lady assembled what she could and, with little effort, encouraged flames to lick up the carefully piled wood, building a small inferno. She stood over it and surveyed the shore - her beach, her sea - like a queen surveying her country. At nearly six-feet-tall, with dark brown, shoulder-length hair and classical features lit by the glow of the fire, she appeared less like a queen and more like a Greek goddess ready to receive a sacrifice. The fire lady saw a solitary figure approaching in the distance.
It was a young woman, maybe twenty years old. She had very short blond hair and was dressed quite inappropriately for the weather. Her tiny yellow bikini could barely contain her ample breasts. The young woman smiled at the fire lady, first with her eyes, and then with a set of sultry lips. When she opened those lips, she spoke with a French-Canadian accent, and asked a favor that came off more like an invitation, which the fire lady eagerly accepted: 'Will you share your fire with me?'
The two spoke, and the fire lady learned that the young woman had quit school in Montreal weeks earlier and traveled down to spend her days surfing. She met a local man in a dive bar and stayed at his trailer. The man treated her like shit, and called her disgraceful names, but he never hit her, and when he had ended up in jail for unspecified reasons the night before, it left the surfer girl with nowhere to go. Nowhere, that is, except the warm embrace of this fire, which she desperately needed on such a chilly night.
The surfer girl reminded the fire lady of her college days, when everything seemed possible (and desirable) and when foolishness was endearing, and where the innocent young fire lady had made love to a series of na?ve girls. She thought back to studying for a freshman literature class in her friend's room. Her friend's roommate, who had impossibly red hair and piercing grey eyes, left during the study session. With the roommate gone, the friend shared a secret about the roommate through childish whispering and giggling. The secret lodged as an anxious desire in the young fire lady's chest.
One day, clad in a tight silk dress, the young fire lady came by her friend's room at a time when she knew her friend would be in class, and asked the roommate to lunch. Lunch became dinner, dinner became drinks, drinks became dancing, and soon the young fire lady was feverishly sucking and stroking the red-haired roommate's breasts. The roommate ravenously pulled off the tight silk dress, tearing a strap in the process, and then pulled aside the lace (even back then, always lace) panties. The red-haired roommate's tongue slowly teased up and down the tight, innocent flesh of the young fire lady's pussy. Her tongue found the young fire lady's eager clit, spinning circles and sucking sensually with full, soft lips until the young fire lady came - for the first time - on the red-haired roommate's devoted face, while the roommate's grey eyes looked deeply into her own. The young fire lady, feeling flushed after her first orgasm, pulled on what was now a one-strap dress and walked out the dance club's utility room with a confusing mix of pride and shame. Standing on the beach with the surfer girl, the fire lady wondered briefly why she was thinking back on that chapter of her life. Of course, it was because the surfer girl filled her with the same desire.
The surfer girl was hoping that she would be invited back to ... wherever, really. She could see that the fire lady was lost in thought. The fire lady, despite her desire, was not going to invite the surfer girl to her cottage. For one, she was married to a man, and her younger days of sleeping with women were behind her - especially considering that she had no reason to trust some foreign, bikini-clad gypsy nymph. And all that aside, it would be wrong to take advantage of this lost girl's predicament. No, taking the surfer girl to bed was out of the question: they would brave this moment of unexpressed and unrequited passion and then their relationship would die along with the smoldering embers of the fire.
But the surfer girl had designs on a warm bed with a hot night, and she sensed that she had to make her move quickly. She innocently (so innocently) told the fire lady that the flames had warmed her body, but that her hands were still cold. The surfer girl slid her tiny hands into the fire lady's front pockets and pulled in close to her body. The surfer girl was shorter so that her head came to rest on the fire lady's shoulder. The feeling of the surfer girl's large breasts pressed against her body was exquisite and so all-consuming that the fire lady did not notice as the surfer girl's pocketed hands slid inside the lace (moist lace) panties. Or perhaps she noticed, but did not resist.
The fire lady came suddenly to her senses and grasped the surfer girl's supple shoulders, pulling her away. Their eyes met - one set of eyes swirling with conflicting emotion; one set of grey eyes filled with youthful determination. Those beautiful grey eyes took the fire lady back again, and her inhibitions were lost . . . .
Her hands pulled the surfer girl's face close and kissed her sultry lips with an intensity that she thought she lost long ago. Those lips were delicious: they tasted faintly salty with the sea water and the surfer girl's hard-earned sweat. She hungrily devoured that mouth and tongue while the surfer girl returned the favor, taking the fire lady's tongue between her lips and sucking with a greedy urgency.
The fire lady ran her right hand through the surfer girl's short blond hair and, with her left hand, slowly undid her own jeans - the button, the zipper, and then the waist sliding down her thighs. She then playfully took the surfer girl's hair in her right hand and gently pulled the surfer girl to her knees, so that her face was a few hot inches from the thin layer of lace covering the fire lady's hungry twat. The surfer girl thoughtlessly pulled the lace (now, torn lace) panties to the side and plunged her soft face into the fire lady's smooth pussy. 'So good . . .' the surfer girl moaned, as her tongue penetrated into the wet, pink folds, her nose gliding along the pulsing clit. Almost instantly, the fire lady came like a tidal wave. Her whole body shook with pleasure. Her mind drifted to a place outside of time as she gave the surfer girl a delicious gift that the surfer girl dutifully swallowed.
The fire lady's orgasm only encouraged the surfer girl, who continued to lap at the cunt like a dog, breathing heavily and grinning widely as the fire lady climaxed again. The fire lady was overwhelmed with such intense pleasure that she could no longer take it, and she pushed the surfer girl away and dropped to her own knees, hunched over and panting. The surfer girl, laughing with accomplishment, tackled the fire lady in the sand and kissed her deeply. The surfer girl's mouth tasted different now. It tasted like the fire lady's very own secret.
'Now take me home.'