The wind off the North Sea rifled over Sylt Island. The long strand was pockmarked by the dugouts to protect beach-goers from the stinging sand. These shelters served to guard the nakedness or intimate acts in these beach pits from prying eyes. This was total freedom; no cars, houses, jobs, or autobahns, simply the meeting of sun, sea, and air on the body.
While nudity was accepted in Germany, examining another person body was considered an infringement of privacy, yet Kurt studied Vanessa's naked body, as she spread her arms and legs to the sun. Her skin was blemishless. Her muscle tone was faultless. Her breasts were round without being too big. Pale aureoles surrounded her auburn nipples. Her belly was defined without being muscular and the taut tendons of her upper thigh accentuated the gap between her legs. The wispy blonde hair around her vagina hid a hint of soft pink labia. Her platinum hair streaked in the warm wind and she bit into the apple in her hand. Her teeth cracked through the peel and her tongue licked at the fruit. After finishing the apple, she dropped the core for the late afternoon tide to take it into the sea.
All day Kurt had followed the non-committal advice of the American and had received neither a kiss nor caress from the blonde.
Vanessa carried herself differently than these previous conquests. She was the daughter of a professor and house maker. Her good family, Echt Burgherleute, was a step down for a Von Hausen, but should have been an attainable heaven for a bastard from Hafenstrasse.
Only Vanessa was in sight. It was Ruhezeit or that time of the afternoon during which all Germans observed the rite of quiet.
Kurt stood up and wrapped a towel around his waist to hide his erection, then cross the sand to Vanessa. She turned to him and said, "It's a beautiful day."
"Unlike the first day we met. The rain was pouring down and I sought shelter under an arcade by the Alsterfleet with some twenty other people. Most were muttering about the weather. Typical Germans, then I see a woman in a tan raincoat exit from the U-bahn station. Unlike everyone else she walked erect against the slashing slant of rain. I called out to her."
"I thought you were someone I knew, but you weren't."
"I saw that and feared you might run away like Cinderella, so I invited you inside a cafe."
"We had cake and tea and talked about Paris. Why did you call to me?"
"Like you I thought I knew you. I was wrong?" Kurt stared admiringly at the blue veins threading underneath her alabaster skin. "But you were a stranger like me, however you resembled a woman in a painting I once saw at the Louvre."
"I bet you have used that line before." She lifted a hand to push back a damp wisp of hair. A diamond engagement ring graced her finger.
"Truthfully I might have, but then I was lying."
"And now you are not?"
"Never to you." Vanesa ran to the sea, her feet flicking through the shallow waters of the North Sea.
Kurt chased her.
Within seconds his lungs told him that he had to quit smoking cigarette.
Vanessa playfully kicked water at him. Kurt responded by splashing her with handfuls of water. Her arms covered her breasts, as she dashed through the shallows, throwing back her head in delight.
He dove into the shallow water, scrapping his chest on the sandy bottom. The cold water partially suppressed his erection. When he rose from the water, Vanessa turned to a commotion on the shore.
People were yelling at a dark figure in the dunes. A clothed man had been watching the sunbathers through his camera. A chorus of voices shouted for him to leave. Kurt joined in, till seeing the expression on Vanessa's face. He ran over and asked, "What is wrong?"
"That man," Vanessa announced in a distressed sob. "I think he was taking pictures."
Kurt could not see the man in the distance, but said, "I will go up and give him a beating."
Vanessa stopped him from leaving and pleaded,, "No, don't go."
"I am not going nowhere." Kurt was paralyzed by the adoration emanating from the blonde. He had been in love several times or so he thought, but nothing like this. He held Vanessa in his arms, shielding her from anyone watching. Her flesh was hot from the sun, and she pressed her silky thighs against his leg.
Vanessa shivered in Kurt's arms and she sighed, feeling his penis against her belly. Sex was no mystery to her and she knew how to satisfy Kurt. She lifted her head and kissed him on the lips. They tasted of the sea
Kurt lifted her gently off her feet and carried her effortlessly back into the dugout, laying her tenderly on the blanket before settling to her side. Kurt cupped her right breasts and softly toyed with her nipple. Her face flushed with the blush of blood and she murmured, "I always thought it would be like this."
Me too."
Somehow the chorus of Serge Gainsbourg's song SEA, SUN, AND SEX played in Kurt's head, as the soft down of her belly skimmed his flesh and a tingling sensation rippled through his body. His heart skipped a beat, when her hand sheathed his cock. He stopped breathing, as he came. This premature ejaculation had never occurred before.
The white semen on her belly was pearl-white for a few seconds, then melted to a clear liquid. His penis wilted in her hand. She kissed him and he rehardened instantly feeling together with Vanessa, but also so very alone and he recalled where he had heard the words to match the sentiment he was feeling.
From Wim Wenders' KINGS OF THE ROAD, when the two men sit in a derelict bunker surveying the border between the East and the West. One says to the other that the most extreme loneliness he had ever experienced was, when he was in a woman. And now, Kurt's being so close to a woman without ever having penetrated her mirrored that cinematic moment.
He was about to explain this to her, but she stilled him with her lips. The loneliness evaporated like it had never existed before. Only a fool could believe that was true, then again only fools fall in love.
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