“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “He’s really good at everything that has to do with sex. Especially ... you know ... going downtown.”
“That is a good trait in a man,” Neesh said. “Gordy’s pretty good at munching my pussy too, which is remarkable.”
“Why is it remarkable?”
“Most black men won’t put their face within two feet of a pussy,” she said.
“Really?”
“Really,” she said. “It’s a cultural thing. Good thing Gordy never got the memo on that one.”
“I can’t imagine an existence where my pussy doesn’t get eaten out on a regular basis,” Laura said. “I wouldn’t want to live in that world.”
“Neither would I,” Neesh said.
They passed the bottle back and forth a few more times, emptying it. Neesh tossed it behind them.
“Wine’s all gone,” she said. “Let’s go play in the water.”
“Okay,” Laura said.
They kicked off their shoes and socks and trotted across the sand to where the waves were breaking on the shore. Soon they were laughing and giggling as they ran in and out of the edge of the advancing and retreating breakers.
“The water is so much warmer here than it is up in Oregon,” Laura told Neesh as a wave splashed over her bare knees. “You can actually swim in it here.”
“You can’t swim in the water in Oregon?” she asked. “Not even in July?”
“No way,” she said. “The ocean up there is always icy cold even on the hottest days. You can go in up to your knees like we’re doing now, but that’s about it. And even with that, you’ll start to freeze your ass off after a little bit.”
“That’s weird,” Neesh said. “It’s the same ocean as this one. Why is it so much colder up there?”
“Nerdly explained it to me once. It’s something to do with equatorial currents and prevailing winds and the way the Earth rotates.”
“Oh,” Neesh said with a giggle. “Thank you for clearing that up for me.”
“Anytime,” Laura laughed as another wave washed over her feet and calves.
“Hey, all this talk about swimming makes me want to get all the way in. You up for it?”
Laura looked at her. “Swimming? Right now? We’d get all wet!”
“Uh, yeah,” Neesh said. “That’s usually what happens when one jumps into the ocean.”
“I mean I don’t have a bathing suit with me,” Laura said. “And I don’t want to have to wear wet clothes the rest of the night.”
“I understand your concern,” Neesh said. “Fortunately, there is a simple solution to the problem.”
“You mean I borrow one of your swimsuits?” Laura said, eyeing Neesh doubtfully. She was beautiful and voluptuous, but considerably larger in height, weight, hips, and boobs. “I’m not sure it would fit me ... especially not, you know ... up top.”
“That’s not the solution I was talking about,” Neesh said.
“Then what is?”
Neesh giggled again. “Teach, you’re so adorably naïve. It’s cute. Kind of sexy too.”
“What do you mean?” Laura asked, feeling a little surge of sexual excitement ripple through her at being called sexy.
“I’m talking about skinny dipping, girlfriend,” Neesh said. “Ain’t you ever done it before?”
“Well ... of course,” she said, feeling herself blush. “Jake and I swim naked in his pool all the time, but this is a public beach.”
“Ain’t nobody out here but us girls,” Neesh told her. “And it’s not exactly a public beach in the strict sense of the word. Gordy owns the property above the high tide mark on this stretch. And while the beach between the high tide mark and the water belongs to the people of California under the law, the only way they can get here is by walking from the easement path half a mile in that direction. I don’t think any of those people will be strolling by at this time of night.”
“But what about the neighbors?” Laura asked.
“A bunch of tighty-whities, as Gordy would say. I never see them out on the beach at night. Come on, girl, let’s do this thing. Don’t be a prude!”
“Well...” Laura said, her inhibitions trying to creep back in despite the alcohol surging through her bloodstream.
“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” Neesh told her, trotting out of the waves and onto dry sand just beyond the breakers. She then whipped off her shirt. Her bra followed right behind it, revealing an impressive set of mammaries for Laura to look at in the moonlight. The shorts and panties came down next. Laura saw that Neesh kept herself clean-shaven down there.
“Looks like you’re a rotten egg,” Neesh told her, running into the surf and plunging head first into one of the breaking waves.
“All right,” Laura called after her. “You talked me into it!”
She pulled off her clothes and piled them next to Neesh’s on the sand. She then streaked across the sand and into the surf. The water was warmer than Oregon’s coast, that was for sure, but it wasn’t as warm as Hawaii’s or Florida’s. There was a distinct bite as she plunged into it, jumping over the top of an incoming wave and submerging.
She got used to the cold fairly quickly as she and Neesh paddled around just beyond the breakers. And she had to admit that skinny dipping was fun. There was a smooth sensuousness to the feel of ocean water on naked flesh, a liberating freedom to not having a stitch of clothing to soak up the water. And the occasional contact between her and Neesh, their legs or feet touching, their butts coming into contact for a brief second, and one accidental grope of one of Neesh’s large boobs while backstroking, were kind of turning her on. Not that she was into girls or anything, it was just the illicitness and risqué nature of the game.
That’s what she told herself anyway.
Back in the house, Gordon and Jake were in the mode and it did not occur to either one of them to wonder why the ladies had not returned from their foray onto the beach. They were upstairs in the large secondary bedroom that had been converted into a composing room. A baby grand piano was the centerpiece of the room, but there was also a five-piece drum set and a synthesizer. On the walls were an acoustic bass guitar, an alto sax, a trombone, and the Yamaha acoustic six-string that Jake was currently playing (it had indeed been quite out of tune but was better now).
Gordon sat at the piano, an array of blank musical scores and plain pieces of paper and a pencil sitting on a stand next to him. Jake sat in a comfortable chair next to him.
“I think the chorus should be the rock part, sung by me in classic rock style,” he suggested to his co-writer.
“I can dig that,” Gordon said. “And I sing the verses in hip hop style?”
“That’s probably the best way to go about it,” Jake said. “We switch the tempo back and forth between verses and chorus; hell, we can even change key if we want, and then do some kind of a fusion of the two styles for a bridge.”
“Sounds good in concept,” Gordon told him. “How do you usually compose your tunes? Do you go melody then chorus then verses then bridge?”
“Most of the time,” Jake said. “The chorus is the main theme of the song and is usually supported by the primary melody, so it helps to do that first.”
“Well ... how about you pull a little melody out of your ass then?”
Jake smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He began to strum the guitar, playing around with the G-chord, trying to come up with something simple, yet something different than anything that had been done before. Eventually, after maybe ten minutes, he stumbled across a little three-chord progression that he liked the sound of. He played it out a few more times, his fingers pushing the strings with more force, with more confidence.
“I kind of like that,” Gordon said. “It’s catchy.”
“I like it too,” Jake said. “Play it on the piano, see what it sounds like there.”
“Run it by me.”
Jake named off the notes in order. Gordon nodded, whispered the progression to himself a few times, and then slowly picked out the melody on the piano, note by note.