The weeks after my wife’s funeral were the hardest of my life. I’d left work, secure in my future with the life insurance payout and the company shares I had accumulated over the years. With no mortgage and a secluded home that was more than enough for any bachelor, my new life had begun, and the first eight weeks were a solitary hell, then things took a change for the better.
My home was a cliff top family affair, with four large bedrooms, all ensuite; a large living area with open hearth; a study with walls of books; a kitchen any chef would die for and a huge conservatory on the seaward side of the house. Outside was a pool with changing room suite and a sheltered summerhouse in the grotto.
Summer was just beginning and I was able to wander down the cliff path to the beach at low tide and pick amongst the flotsam for interesting driftwood to carve and polish, a hobby I had undertaken for years. It was on one of these jaunts that I first saw Danni, the teenage daughter of one of my neighbours, a widow whom I had never met as she had only newly moved into the area.
The tide was still ebbing when I strolled down to the beach, the dusk sun reinforcing the pink granite of the cliffs. As I clambered over the rocky foreshore, I heard a jingling noise ahead of me from around a small rocky spur, and slowed my pace listening intently. Climbing up the rocks I peered over to a small beach, no more than twenty yards across, and at the far end was a young slim girl, just putting down a florid bag covered in beads and little reindeer bells, the ones I had heard from the rocks.
I stopped in my tracks and looked at the girl, slight built with a small waist, and long dark hair falling to the centre of her back. A white crinkle pleated top, showing her dark outline clearly through its translucent material, topped her long gypsy ankle length skirt. Leaning forward to a lying position, my head low against the rocks, I continued to watch the young girl, wondering what she was doing there on this secluded beach, many miles from the nearest town and stopping place on the coast road.
Oblivious to my presence, she stood there staring out to the sea, then began to remove her clothes. She carefully removed her top, revealing her naked torso beneath. She had no bra, and indeed, her pert young breasts were firm enough to probably never need one. Their compact beauty was tipped with dark small nipples to match her long hair, which now hung against her naked shoulders like a heavenly waterfall. Carefully folding the top, she placed it onto her bag, and then tucked her thumbs into the top of her skirt, gently easing the elastic waist over her slim hips and down her perfect tanned thighs.
‘Oh my god’, I whispered to myself under my quickening breath, as she folded her skirt and placed it with her top. No panties, naked. This young picture of feminine perfection stood naked and unaware right before me. My wife had been blonde and slightly built, but age had begun to fill out her figure in the last few years before she had been taken from me, and she had somewhat lost her innocent child look that had initially attracted me to her. I had loved her no less for her bodily changes, having grown to love more than her body, and this love had stopped my once rampant urges since I had been widowed, until now.
As I lay there peeping on this beautiful young woman, stretching slowly in the low sun, I felt tightness in my shorts as my sex drive kicked back into gear after having been parked for these many weeks. I shuffled my groin up from the rock, and reached down to re-adjust my rampant cock to a more comfortable position and felt a damp patch against the front of the thin material as my pre-cum had already begun to flow freely from my hungry cock. I gently rubbed against the straining member as I continued to watch, unable to move from my position.
Placing her hands behind her head, she pressed her breasts forward, thrusting them out to the sun as if offering them in worship, her belly flat and tight, her feet apart, bottom tight and clenched; and oh what a bottom it was, all small split muscle, compact and flawless, like the rest of her lightly tanned torso. Then slowly she raised her face to the sky, and reached skyward with her arms, and in one slow sweeping motion leaned forward to place her palms flat on the floor between her spread feet, her buttocks stretching wide and opening to reveal her small brown-ringed anus and the juvenile soft cleft fuzzy lips of her pussy. My position could have been improved for this show, but not without paying for a front row seat and revealing my presence.
I continued to stroke my cock through my shorts and felt alive again; felt a need to awaken my sexual desires, and these now seriously included physical contact with this beautiful young woman. Alas, I was a sensible man and knew that an open sexual advance on her could well result in a visit from the local sheriff and a long stay in one small room and not the beautiful house I currently lived in. So I lay there watching and stroking as the exercise regime came to an end, and my young model of femininity ran down the beach to the sea, her long hair waving behind her as she ran.
Oh what bliss, a voyeurs delight. As she splashed into the sea, my own show came to an explosive crescendo as my seed splashed copiously into the front of my thin shorts, then ran freely out down the front of my legs. I inhaled deeply and held my breath as my orgasm intensified, holding it until my shaking thrusting pelvis stilled itself against the now slick rock. ‘Jeeezus…’ is all I remember muttering quietly to myself, as my nymphet returned up the beach , sparkling wetly in the low sunlight.
Her quick dip was barely enough to wet her hair, and she proceeded to quickly dry herself with a small towel from the side pocket of her bag. I continued to watch as she rubbed her skin pink, and then replaced her top and skirt slowly. Glancing once more to the sea, and never once in my direction, she then proceeded to climb up the rocks on her side of the beach and jangled off into the evening.
Wow, what a moment. I lay still, remaining low until she was well gone, and natural sounds returned. One sound remained however, the rushing sound of blood in my ears as my heartbeat raced, out of tempo with the calm beautiful night. I rolled over onto my back, and glanced down at the wet sticky patch in my shorts, closed my eyes and smiled. My libido was re-awakened and it felt good. I returned home after briefly recovering my composure, and headed straight for the shower, dropping my shorts into the laundry basket as I entered the bathroom.
Standing under the hot needling jets of water, I closed my eyes and was back on the beach, looking at the gymnastic display of the young woman. I pictured the firm beautiful buttocks, the tightness of her anus and the tidiness of her beautiful cleft pussy lips. It was enough. My cock again took on a mind of its own, freed from the remorse of mourning at last, free to re-assert its control on my emotions. I reached down and wrapped my wet fingers around it, then started to grasp it tightly whilst pumping quickly, in typical male fashion. I placed one hand against the wall and thrust my hips forward under the flow of water from the shower, pumping my cock for all I was worth. Before me, just up from the front seat I was now in, the small dark haired beauty, naked, facing away from me, but bent over with her palms flat on the sand and looking back between her legs straight into my eyes, smiled. It was enough, my seed erupted from the end of my cock and fell into the drain and disappeared from view as quickly as if it was into her pussy.
The following weeks were to re-energise the lustful man within me, and this was to be just the beginning…
