Kate asked me, “What are you thinking about?”
I came out of my happy reverie and replied, “About what a beautiful place this world is.”
She asked, “What did you say your name was?”
“Be nice. I’m trying to get in the mood of… whatever.”
“Good.” She suggested, “Let’s go back to the B and B and make love.”
I made an immediate two-wheeled U-turn on the deserted road and hit the accelerator.
“Slow down.”
I eased off on the gas pedal. As the old expression goes, “Women need a reason to have sex; men need only a place.” So, in that spirit, I hung a quick left at a sign that said: ORIENT BEACH STATE PARK.
“Where are you going?”
“A romantic spot.”
“John, let’s go back to the B and-”
“This is closer.”
“Come on, John. I don’t like to do it outdoors.”
I didn’t care where I did it as long as I did it. And my pocket rocket had clearly pointed to this road.
I continued on the dark, narrow road that ran through bulrushes and sea grass along a narrow peninsula. The land widened, and I saw an opening in the vegetation to the left and turned onto a path that went down to the water. I put the Jeep in four-wheel drive, continuing through some boggy ground until we reached a small sand beach on Gardiner’s Bay.
I shut off the ignition, and we got out of the Jeep, took off our shoes and socks, and walked to the edge of the water.
To the east, we could see the mysterious shore of Plum Island, and to the south was Gardiner’s Island, which had been in the Gardiner family since the 1600s, and where Captain Kidd had supposedly buried his treasure, which may be true, but the Gardiners weren’t talking about it.
Further south across the bay were the lights of the Hamptons, whose summer residents had more treasure than any pirate could hope to steal in a lifetime of pillaging and plundering.
But, I digress from the subject at hand, which was my extreme horniness. I said, “Let’s skinny-dip.” I took off my jacket and flung it back on the sand.
Kate put her toe in the water. “It’s cold.”
“It’s warmer than the air.” I took off my shirt and pants. “Come on.” I slipped off my boxer shorts and stepped into the water. Jeez. My stiffy dropped like a cold noodle.
Kate noticed and said, “Maybe you do need to cool down.” She pushed me. “Go ahead, Tarzan.”
Well, this was my idea, so, remembering the Polar Bear Club’s annual January dip into the Atlantic Ocean at Coney Island, I let out a bloodcurdling scream and charged into the water, then dove under.
I thought my heart stopped, and for sure my testicles headed straight up into my groin, while my formerly stiff member shrunk to the size of a comma in a telephone book.
I stayed under as long as I could, then popped my head up and treaded water. I called to Kate, “It’s okay once you’re in!”
“Good. Stay in. I’m going back to the B and B. Bye!”
I shouted back, “I thought FBI agents were tough! You’re a pussy!”
“You’re an idiot. Get out of there before you freeze to death.”
“Okay… oh… jeez… I’m getting cramps…” I went under, then came up again, spit water, and yelled, “Help!”
“Are you joking?”
“Help!”
I heard her say, “Damn,” or maybe she said, “Drown.” She pulled off her clothes, took a deep breath, and ran into the water up to her waist, then dove in and began swimming toward me.
I filled my lungs with air and floated on my back, looking up at the magnificent night sky. I think I saw Pegasus through the skimming clouds.
Kate reached me and treaded water a few feet away. “You asshole.”
“Excuse me?”
“If you’re not drowning now, you will be in a fucking minute from now.”
“I didn’t say I was drowning.” I suggested, “Float on your back. I’ll show you Pegasus.”
“I cannot fucking believe you did that. I’m freezing.”
“The water’s warmer than-”
She put her hand over my face and pushed my head underwater. And held it there. For a long time.
I swam away underwater and came around her from behind. Her beautiful naked butt was right in front of me-so how could I resist giving her right cheek a little love bite?
She shot straight up, and when I surfaced, she was swimming in a circle, trying to see into the black water.
I called out, “I just bit a white-butt shark.”
She turned toward me and screamed a lot of words that didn’t sound nice. I did, however, catch the words “Fucking idiot.”
Well, enough foreplay. I said, “I’m going back. Are you staying in?”
She didn’t reply and headed for shore using a strong overhand stroke.
She was fast, but I caught up, and we raced each other to the shore. I think we’re both very competitive, and this is what keeps our relationship so interesting. Also, one of us is an immature idiot, and the other is not, so we sort of complement each other, like an alpha male baboon and his female trainer.
Anyway, I think Kate was a little angry with me, so I let her beat me to the shore, and when I walked onto the beach, she was drying herself with my pants and sports jacket.
It was really cold out of the water, with a little breeze blowing, and my teeth were chattering. I said to her, “That was refreshing.”
No response.
I tried another approach. “Hey, you’re a hell of a swimmer. Do you want to have sex?”
She was gathering her clothes from the sand and didn’t seem to hear me.
“Kate? Hello?”
She turned toward me. “I have never in my life been with a grown man who is so infantile, so stupid, so moronic, so harebrained, so reckless, so-”
I interrupted, “So I guess a blow job is out of the question.”
“A what? Are you kidding?”
“Well… I thought you said-”
“Don’t speak to me.”
“Okay.”
So we both stood there on the little beach, naked, and I mean, she really looked good, not withstanding her wet hair and blue lips. She has this incredibly athletic yet voluptuous body, with breasts that defy the laws of gravity, and a tummy as flat and firm as a bar top, long legs that are as beautiful as any I’ve ever seen, including my own, and a patch of blond pubic hair that drives me crazy. Plus, she has a butt that is so firm I could barely get a good bite out of it.
She was looking at me, too, and I knew she was getting a little steamy despite the air temperature. We’re really physically attracted, and we click sexually, so even when she’s not speaking to me, which is about twice a week, we can still make love. To tell the truth, I sometimes like it that way.
Anyway, I made the first move toward her, and she hesitated, then dropped her clothes and took a step toward me.
I felt some warm blood making its way back into my shriveled weenie.
We stood a few feet apart, face-to-face, then our hands reached out, and we caressed each other. Big John perked up a little more, then she took it in her hand and said, “That’s hot.”
I put my fingers between her legs. “It’s hot in there, too.”
By now, we were both hot as pistols, proving once again that when you’re having a disagreement with your partner, just skip the conversation and get down to the sex.
We came closer, and I could feel her breasts on my chest, and her thighs against mine, and her hands on my butt, pulling me closer.
I dropped to my knees and kissed her blond bush, and I was about to drop onto my back so she could get on top, but she suddenly turned and said, “Kiss it where you bit me.”
Okay. I didn’t remember where I bit her, so I covered the whole field.
Then she turned around and demanded, “Tell me you’re sorry.”
So, still on my knees, I said, “I’m sorry.”