Rising Like The Tide

The summer of 1966 rolled around like any other year in sleepy, small town Pennsylvania. While most of the town’s residents may not have even noticed, things were actually going pretty good for me. I had graduated high school, I still had my job in my friend’s father’s shop doing basic machine shop work, I still had my ’61 Impala SS and most importantly, I was still going out with Debbie.

Debbie and I were both 18 now, which meant that even though we were not old enough to drink in Pennsylvania where the drinking age was still 21, we could trek out on occasion to Staten Island or even Manhattan and enjoy the vast array of clubs. You could say we were both really enjoying our newfound freedom and mobility. The other thing we liked to do in the summer, was to head out to the New Jersey shore. There was a small, relatively secluded section near Sandy Hook that we felt we had “discovered.” There never seemed to be anyone else around and we often made full use of our relative privacy.

One particular outing I recall quite vividly. I had washed and Simonized the white Impala that morning. I drove to pick Debbie up at her house shortly before noon. I pulled up to Debbie’s house, or should I say rumbled up, as the car now had headers and glass-pack mufflers. I parked and went up and knocked on her door.

Debbie answered the door wearing a rather sheer beach cover-up which barely concealed the white two-piece swimsuit underneath. She looked rather radiant with her blonde hair bouncing as she approached. With a big smile, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and then ran back into the house to grab her things. She soon came back carrying a large woven beach bag and a transistor radio her uncle gave her for her birthday.

We got in the car and headed out towards the highway. It would be at least a couple of hours till we got to the shore but neither of us was really in a hurry. Getting there would be half the fun.

As we hit Route 33, the breeze came blasting in through the open car windows. I glanced over at Debbie from time to time and could see her trying to keep her long blonde hair from blowing in her face. The strong breeze made the remaining curls dance wildly above her dark, plastic framed sunglasses as she smiled back at me. The suns rays did their own dance as they alternately lit up Debbie’s tanned thighs as she sat there on the big vinyl bench seat. Occasionally I would reach over and brush her left thigh with the back of my hand which would elicit a quick giggle.

Out on the highway, the rumble of the big dual exhaust pipes quickly drowned out the radio. I reached over and turned it up. ‘Wild Thing’ by The Troggs was playing, a song which was a big hit that year. Debbie and I both really liked the song.

“Wild Thing. You make my heart sing. You make everything groovy.”

I reached over and stroked her chin as I mouthed the words. Again, she giggled softly.

After exiting Route 33, when we were well into New Jersey, we stopped at a soda fountain and shared a root beer float. I went over to the jukebox and put on ‘Wild Thing.’ As the song started to play, I got behind Debbie and started to run my fingers through her long, blonde hair.

“Wild Thing, I think I love you. But I want to know for sure.”

As the song played I reached forward and whispered the words into her ear, my nose gently nuzzling her earlobe. I could feel her body tremor lightly as I softy caressed her neck with my fingertips. She leaned her head back into my face as I buried my face into her soft, blonde locks.

When we finished our floats, we headed back out on the highway. In about an hour we were at Sandy Hook and parked the car. It was a bit of a hike from where we were to the beach, but not too bad. After we got out of the car, I led Debbie around to the trunk to show her what I had brought with us.

“Here, check it out. You’ll like this.” I said as I popped the trunk open.

“Gary, you didn’t.” She answered.

“Oh, yes I did!”

I showed her a case of beer I had stashed in the trunk.

“Here, give me your bag.” I said.

She somewhat hesitantly handed me the big woven bag as I proceeded to take out the sandwiches and replace them with two six packs. I figured the sandwiches could be carried out in the open easily enough.

“Here, carry the sandwiches. I’ll take the bag.” I told her as I handed her the food.

I closed the trunk as we began the walk to the beach. When we got onto the sand, we both removed our shoes. The sand was hot on the bottoms of our feet, but we soon made our way down by the water. The damp sand felt cool and soothing on our bare soles as the ocean waves lapped across the tops of our feet.

We proceeded to walk hand in hand past the crowd sunbathing on the surf. We knew where we wanted to go. About fifteen minutes later, we had walked well past the end jetties and found our relatively secluded spot that we held so dear. We set up the little belongings we brought and turned on the transistor radio.

Debbie and I sat there in the sand just holding hands for some time barely saying a word. We were just enjoying the gorgeous blue sky adorned with puffy clouds that hung like cotton candy over the crystal clear blue water. The gulls sang their own special tune as they hovered overhead, sometimes passing so close it seemed you could reach out and grab one.

After a while, I reached into the bag and took out two beers. I opened one and passed it to Debbie and then opened one for myself. Where we were sitting was for all practical purposes invisible to the other beachgoers because of the position of the jetties.

After a few beers, we headed into the water and had fun splashing each other and bobbing up and down in the waves. As Debbie’s bathing suit top got wetter, it just seemed to hug the curves of her perfect breasts just that much tighter. Don’t think it went unnoticed.

A couple of beers later, our splashing and bobbing turned into a full-fledged game of one on one tag. We were just having fun in the sun on a perfect beach day. I went over to the bag to get myself another beer and I heard ‘Wild Thing’ come on the radio. I turned it up after grabbing the beer and started to sing along with the radio.

“Wild Thing, I think I love you. But I want to know for sure.”

As I sang the words rather exuberantly, I quickly raised the beer up right in front of Debbie’s face and popped the top. I guess I raised it too quick, because the beer splattered all over Debbie, some on her face but mostly on her chest.

“I’m sorry, let me get that for you.” I kindly offered.

I put down the beer and stood in front of Debbie and began to lap the beer off of her face and then started licking down her neck. Since it ran down her top, I had to remove that revealing her perfect set of breasts. I lapped every bit of beer off of her breasts and nipples, one at a time. I then slid down her bathing suit bottom and made my way with my tongue down to her waiting mound. I removed my own bathing suit and sat down on the sand, positioning myself directly in front of Debbie’s neatly trimmed bush. She started to moan as I increased the intensity of my tongue strokes, attempting to get ever deeper into her as if I was digging for gold. I held her firm by her perfect butt cheeks as I buried my face in her mound. In short order, I could feel her juices start to run down the side of my chin as her moans increased in both frequency and intensity.

Since I was seated on the sand, I slowly guided her down by her butt cheeks onto my now rock solid member. Debbie put her hands on my shoulders as she eased herself up and down, slowly at first then gradually building speed. In a few minutes, I could feel her tight, young vaginal muscles holding me firm in their grasp as if trying to milk me of every drop of my jizz. I believe they were. We soon came together as Debbie collapsed into my arms.

We sat for some time afterwards and watched the sun set over the ocean. It was spectacular, as the various shades of red light put on a show as only nature can. A couple of hours later, we had finished all the beer as we sat and held hands and talked. In a while, between the beer and the physical activity, we were soon fast asleep on the beach.

Several hours later, I awoke. I was groggy at first from the night before, but was soon aware that it was morning and that the tide had risen to the point where the waters were lapping at my legs. The rising water splashing on my inner thighs is what woke me up.

I looked over at Debbie. She was still fast asleep. Apparently the beer had more of an effect on her. She looked so beautiful under the cover of the morning skies as the sun began to rise in all it’s glory. The rising waters were splashing at her inner thighs as well, but yet she remained asleep to the world. I sat for some time just admiring her gorgeous hair and face in the morning light as she lay there quietly in the sand.

After a while the tide had risen to the point where the waters were reaching all the way up to her womanhood. The delicate waves were starting to splash up and foam onto her neatly trimmed bush. I began to realize the tide wasn’t the only thing rising. I was rising too. Rising like the tide.

I reached over and very gently stroked her soft bush as the salt waters lapped upon it. After each time, I would slowly stroke her delicate hairs a bit deeper. Finally, and quite suddenly, she stirred.

“Ahhh, that’s cold!” She exclaimed.

“Well, good morning, sleepy head.” I answered back.

As the tide rose up again between her legs, I took my wet fingers and began to gently stroke her soft folds. Each time the waters lapped up, I would go deeper into her with my wet fingers. She began to emit soft moans, which soon were becoming quite audible. Her perfect young nipples were so hard and erect, they were casting shadows from the morning sun along the upper portion of her perfect round breasts. After a while, I could tell that the ocean waters were not the only wetness on my fingers.

I sat up and leaned over and gave her a big, deep kiss on the lips. Her golden blond hair never looked better than it did that morning spread out on the sand in the morning light. I rose up and positioned myself between her thighs. With both hands, I scooped up a large amount of the wet sand surrounding us and piled it up under Debbie’s butt to raise it up.

With Debbie’s butt propped up on the wet sand, I held one of her thighs back with my left hand while I guided my fully engorged member into her soft folds. Slowly at first I began to thrust. On my knees and with my back to the ocean, I could feel the waters lapping at the soles of my feet. As Debbie’s soft moans increased in intensity, so did my thrusts. Faster and harder I began to drive into her, as if I was trying to pound her into the sand. I was only vaguely aware of the gulls passing overhead in the early morning. Their squawks became the soundtrack for this event, as if they were Mother Nature’s own cheering section. My thrusting took on an urgency bordering on violence, to the point that I was unaware of the water pooling around my knees as they sank deeper into the wet sand. I felt almost as though I had the whole power of the ocean behind me and in the literal sense the ocean was behind me. Debbie’s tight muscles gripped me like they never wanted to let go, as we came together in a final grunt of passion.

When it was over we lied there side by side for a while in the morning sun. It didn’t take long for us to realize we best put our bathing suits back on for fear of getting sunburned in spots that are not normally exposed. In a couple of hours we gathered our things for the long ride home. There was not a lot of talk that ride home. It was more of a shared mutual silence between two people who had experienced something truly special.

Debbie and I did manage to do it again a couple more times that summer. But, that was the last summer Debbie and I shared together. The next summer would be very different. I would tell you about it, but that would have to wait for another story. I will say, the time I spent with Debbie that summer on the Jersey shore back in ‘66 is something I will never forget.

02-25-10.

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