Hot babe comes to beach with me. We fuck in the ocean.
Chapter 70:
SHE WORE A ONE-PIECE
70. The marina in Daytona was well appointed. It had to be with nearly 300 boat slips available. The only drawback that I could see was its location. It was on the wrong side of the Halifax River. You had to take a taxi over the bridge to the world famous Daytona Beach.
After my mandatory morning coffee, I set out to explore my new location. The marina was huge. I later found out that it was actually three marinas all sharing the same harbor. But the one I was in was dominant with the nicest facilities. I found the Captains Lounge and went in.
Marinas of this size all have the same or similar amenities. At a minimum they all have laundry facilities, a bathhouse with showers, and a Captains Lounge. Some have courtesy cars or bicycles. The cleanliness of the bathhouse is important, and they range from "I'll bathe in the harbor first" to squeaky clean. This one was squeaky clean. As to the laundry facilities, for the most part, washers and dryers are fungible. It's the number of machines that makes a difference. The more, the merrier.
When it comes to the Captains Lounge, the idea is to create a multi-purpose space. There's usually a small library, a television or two, tables and chairs, and robust Wi-Fi. Some have public computers, board games, etc. The larger the marina, the nicer the lounge. In some of the smaller marinas I've visited, the lounge is only an afterthought. Maybe just a table & chair with a few dog-eared books scattered about. A few marinas don't even offer a lounge.
This one was large and nice. There were a dozen or so boaters, some huddled in serious passage planning discussions, charts and guidebooks spread out. Others were watching TV, reading or engaged in idle chat, probably waiting for their laundry cycle to finish.
In one corner there was coffee service. An elaborate coffee, espresso, latte, you-name-it machine dominated the table. I approached it and studied it, trying to figure out how to brew a simple cup of black coffee. It was far from intuitive. Conflicting directions on the machine coupled with a few user written instructions taped to the wall successfully confused me to the point of inaction. As I stood there staring at this Rube Goldberg contraption, a woman approached.
"Took me a week to figure out how to make this thing work. I almost donated my Mr. Coffee machine to put next to it for those of us less adept coffee addicts. What's your goal here captain?"
"Geeze, I feel so small, all because of a stupid machine! I'm just trying to have it produce a simple cup of black coffee. Nothing elaborate. Why do they make things so difficult?"
She laughed "I know, right?" I watched as she pushed buttons, twisted knobs and dials, and placed a cup under the spigot. The machine lit up, started making grinding and whirring noises, eventually streaming a flow of black coffee into the cup.
"My goodness! I hope I can figure that out on my own tomorrow. Maybe I should get your number in case I fail!"
"Well, I'm Daniela but call me Dani. I'm on Dock 3 on 'Delightful', an ancient Cape Dory 36. Look me up if you need help." She gave me a cute grin.
"Gosh, thanks, Dani. I'll keep that in mind. I'm Sailor, by the way. I'm on the transient dock on my sloop 'Blow Me'."
"Blow Me! What kinda name is that?!!" She theatrically recoiled, looking aghast and holding her arm out as if to push me away. It took only a couple of seconds for her to connect the dots. Enlightenment washed over her face. "Oh! I get it! A sloop, a sailboat! And you must be single." I flashed a confident smile at her, raised my eyebrows, and nodded my head to the side.
We paused, taking nervous sips of our coffee. Dani interrupted the awkward pause trying to cover her embarrassment over my boat name. "Transient dock ... Just passing through, huh? Where 'ya headed, Blow Me?" emphasizing the name in mock sarcasm.
"Oh, nowhere in particular. I've been on the west coast of Florida for a few years. After back-to-back-to-back hurricanes last summer, I figured it was time to move on. I'm headed north is about all I can say."
Dani was well groomed, making an attractive appearance. She was pushing mid-50s but dressed and acted much younger. She wore no makeup but, then again, she didn't really need any. Large, round, expressive brown eyes, long cornrow braids, smooth chocolate brown skin. The Botox lip injection crowd would kill for her naturally full lips, resting comfortably on her roundish face. Her lips framed an even row of brilliant white teeth spanning an engaging wide mouth. The outfit she had on was a bit more formal than the typical boater attire. Her appearance conveyed a confident pose. She wore a conservative long sleeved button down Oxford blouse, sleeves stylishly rolled up her forearm, tucked into loose fitting Bermudas that ended just above her knees. Topping it off was a colorful scarf around her neck, draping over her shoulder.
And then there's me. Full white beard, unruly hair trying to decide if it should be blonde or gray, wavy in all the wrong places, looking like an Albert Einstein or Bozo the Clown wig; Clothes that belong in a thrift store, every edge frayed with unruly, wispy threads hanging down here and there; And, of course, barefoot. Always. Footwear is reserved only for those uptight establishments that warn "No shirt, No shoes, No service."
Dani returned to her seat and picked up the People magazine she had abandoned earlier. I meandered over to the book racks and absently perused the titles. Nothing grabbed my attention, so I took my coffee out to the screened porch to soak up the ambience and gaze out at the harbor full of boats. Before long, the door behind me opened and Dani appeared.
"Mind if I join you? I can only read about the Kardashians and Blackpink for so long. And where in the hell did that name come from anyway? Blackpink? Am I missing something? There must be some newfangled meaning to it that escapes me. And they're all Asian girls for Christ's sake! Not a Black one among them!"
"I know. I'm too old to know or even care, for that matter. The younger generations are way too clever for me. And their constantly changing acronyms! Some seem natural and make sense, but others escape me what they're referring to. I mean, I'm way outside the box, but to the younger crowd there is no box at all. I'm content to raise the sails and venture out to new and different places, meeting new and interesting people wherever I go. Sundowner time graced with a cold cocktail and a warm, live body to share it with satisfies me."
"Amen to that!" Dani and I carried on a spirited discussion, touching on everything under the sun. It appears we had tons in common. Who would guess that a model worthy, fashion plate, and a weathered vagabond would agree on so many things?
It was approaching noon, and I was eager to get to the beach to feast my eyes on some living, breathing, nearly naked works of art frolicking about in the sunshine, sand, and surf. "I don't mean to sound too forward, Dani, but how would you like to go to the beach? We could grab a bite to eat, and I'd like to dip my toes in the North Atlantic Ocean."
Her face showed that she was evaluating my suggestion. After a few moments she replied "Sure. Why not? I haven't been over to the 'land of too much skin showing' in weeks. I'll go get ready. How about we meet here in half an hour? We can Uber to the beach together."
We spread some beach towels on the sand near the entrance to the boardwalk giving us a front row seat to view everyone coming to or exiting the beach. Dani lifted her loose beach coverup over her head revealing a one-piece bathing suit. It was sleek and left little to the imagination. It gripped her body like a second skin outlining a generous chest above a firm torso. Her hips and thighs were in proportion to the rest of her body. She sat down and began slathering suntan lotion all over her smooth, dark brown skin. "Sailor, would you mind rubbing some on my back?"
I fished a cold beer from the cooler and commenced my review of the beauties cavorting about. Dani, pretending to be reading, could be seen ogling at the groups of young guys, rock hard bodies, playing frisbee catch and showing off for the young ladies. She'd look up from her book, slide her shades down her nose and zero in on one hunk or another.
The beach was loaded with young 'uns, guys and girls. The guys wore either long surfing baggies or speedos looking like a cod piece. The slim girls all sported itsy-bitsy bikinis; the not-so-slim girls wore one-piece attire. I was in visual heaven.
It was blazing hot under the strong Florida sun. Rivulets of sweat were caressing my chest. I noticed beads of sweat on Dani's face and arms. Thinking about cooling down, I eyed the Atlantic Ocean, only small waves splashing far out.
"Look. It's low tide. Safe for swimming. How about a quick dip in the ocean, Dani? I'm kinda hot, well ... not that way but you catch my drift. Anyway, it sure looks refreshing."
When we got to the water, Dani waded in knee-deep and stopped. "Damn! This water's cold! I'm gonna have to ease into this."
I, on the other hand, broke into a trot, getting as far as I could until the water was deep enough to trip me, causing me to fall forward in a shallow dive. The cold water stole my breath as I came up sputtering. "Oh, come on! It's only cold for an instant. It's a rush! Dive in!"
Dani waded out until the water was deep enough for her to melt downward, immersing her body. "Oh, shit! Holy fuck it's cold!" I could see that her nipples agreed, swelling to twice their previous size, hard and demanding attention. She swished closer to me as we crouched in the waist deep water, keeping our heads above the small swells, our eyes trained on the activity on the beach.
"I've noticed you checking out the jocks playing catch. I got to wondering. They're all dressed in either long surfer baggies or minimal 'banana hammocks'. Which do you prefer?"
She looked at me a bit startled. "If you must know, I prefer neither. Au natural would be my choice. The human body can be beautiful, and I've got nothing to hide."
I turned to face her and pointedly looked directly at her large, protruding nipples. "I can see that."
She instinctively covered her ample breasts with her hands. "Oh, Sailor! Now why'd you have to go and say that! I've been purposely trying to avoid any risqué talk with you. I can just feel where that's going."
Not sure if that was a rejection or an invitation, I pursued. "It's only going where you want it to go, where you'll let it go." There ensued a very long awkward silence. Interested to get her to tip her hand, I probed. "Have you ever made love in the water? It's kind of nice because nobody watching can see exactly what you're doing."
She rolled her eyes, a shit eating grin flashing at me. She circled her arms around my neck. When she wrapped her legs around my waist, she pulled the crotch of her bathing suit aside saying "Oh, boy. Here we go."