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Chapter 1 – ‘Lizabeth

I‘m dreaming of him; I’m dreaming of the family we should have, all the happiness; all the noise: the giggling laughter, the shrieks, and the deafening silence. I sigh as I realize it’s not the right time, maybe something for the future. I turn away from them and look for him; I need to focus on him. He is far away, but I can hear him and I smile, knowing he will come closer.

“’Lizabeth”, he says quietly.

He sounds very far away, his voice soothes me. I close my eyes; a wave of, something, overwhelms me. I gasp the sheer delight of the sensation. “What is it?” I ask myself. “What is overwhelming me?” This feeling, this wave of deep pleasure, it is deep within me and I feel its warmth. “But”, I say to myself, “Breathe” I tell myself. “Breathe”. It will come soon enough.

“’Lizabeth” he says quietly, still far away from me.

I need him to be closer; there is something that is not quite right. What is it or who is it? The answer doesn’t come, I have no answer, I have no idea, but he should be closer to me, I should feel him breathing beside me, his breathing calms my mind. His warmth, his steady breath calms me.

There is still something not quite right, but what is it? Where are we, do we have privacy, is it just him and me? He is next to me and I put aside the uneasiness. We’re on a beach, the sun has retreated behind the hills, there are no clouds and the first stars are out. It is dark, but there are no stars, what do I see above me? There are no clouds, there is no breeze, and I still don’t see the stars. Maybe I’m not outside. A wave hits me; the wind is knocked out of me. I can’t breathe and a wave of nausea overwhelms me and I realize I am having a hard time focusing. I need to bring him closer to me.

“’Lizabeth”, he says quietly, his voice is low and hoarse as if he has been screaming, trying to prevent something from happening.

The wave is gone, I can breathe again, I feel better and I want to concentrate on him and lying on the beach with him. I smile to myself; there are no stars; there are no waves crashing against the beach; it truly is quiet and peaceful. I truly want to be on the beach with him, the sand still warm from the day’s heat, a cool breeze and absolute stillness. I want him to be along side of me, his face, and his lips just brushing gently across my cheeks. I hear him breathe, slow and steady, and I relax.

I can feel him now, he is lying against me; he is watching me and there is a small smile on his face. His eyes are twinkling in amusement. There is joy in his eyes and I hope his smile means he is glad to be next to me and I can ignore the deepening frown on his forehead.

We’re on the beach, lying on soft, thick beach towels. We’re wearing our swim suits; his swim trunks are a deep black. They are brand new; this is their first outing to the beach. There are bits of sand still on his chest, mixed in with his chest hair. I still don’t see his face too well, but I look into his eyes; green, no hazel with a solid dark green ring.

His body is resting comfortably next to me, his feet intertwined in mine. I feel his hand on my hip, his fingers stroking the length of my thigh, circling around my knee, bringing warmth to my skin, his hand moves to my thigh and back up to my hip. I shiver as he moves across my stomach; his palm gentle massages my belly, the warmth of his hand feels good. He shifts closer to me; his hand is resting on my belly, his fingers gently circling and stroking the scar on my shoulder. The scar is pink, slightly swollen, itchy, and ugly. It is a large scar and it took long time to heal. His calloused finger soothes the remains of the wound. Soon, it will be a white line with no swelling; it won’t be noticeable and I am hoping the nightmares about how I got the scar will go away.

He gently kisses me; his lips brush against mine; he kisses my neck, my breast. He shifts to be closer to me and his tongue starts to explore my scar; it must taste of salt from the beach; his mouth encircles the scar, gently kissing and sucking it. He presses his hardening erection against my lower thigh and I feel the rush of warm electric spasms inside me; my breath is raspier; my heart beginning to beat faster. His breathing is heavier and I can hear small grunts as he continues to press his penis against me.
He continues to move his hand down my belly; pushing my bathing suit down past my hips; I lift my bum and he pulls my bathing suit bottom off with his foot. He presses his palm against my pubic hair, letting his fingers swirl in and out of my curly hair. He moves his finger to my fold and spreads them gently to find my clitoris; his finger begins to move back and forth, circling around my clitoris. I moan softly and my breathing is heavier; my heart starts to pound in my ears; each time he circles, pressing hard against my clitoris. He presses his erection harder against my thigh; he thrusts 3 fingers into me and I gasp. He has done this before and my I arch my back with the familiar sensations. His fingers rapidly move inside and out of me; his thumb presses into my clitoris feeling its pulse; he presses harder and harder and does not release me; I cry out as the sensation explodes inside of me.

Gasping for air, I curl around him; my heart pounding. He brushes his wet fingers against my lips, kissing me softly while he shifts his body to be on top of me. His knees push my legs apart and he begins to rub against me in a small circular motion at first and then up and down. I feel his erection on my belly; with each thrust, I push his swim trunks down and away from his body. He lifts himself off me and I push his bathing suit past his hips, removing the last of it with my foot. He lowers himself onto me and presses the tip of his penis against my clitoris; I tilt my hips automatically and move my legs further apart. I can hear him breathing in my ear; deep ‘n dark breaths, afraid of something, afraid to let go of something. I work my hand in between our bodies and take his penis as it continues to push against my clitoris, letting it get covered in my wetness. He holds himself up on his elbows, not wanting to crush me. I guide his penis near my vagina; without warning he thrusts hard and deep into me and I gasp, I am tight and he barely fits inside me. He shifts his body and presses harder into me; his breathing is getting raspier. I hold him, keeping him firmly in me; he thrusts harder and deeper; harder and deeper; his breathe is short and hot; I hear him grunt with each thrust. There is no hesitancy, he is afraid, but this is all he knows right now. He controls the rhythm, going harder and faster with each breath. I am consumed by him as he arcs his back and thrusts into me as he climaxes. He groans and buries his face deep within my neck; his heart pounding, the sweat gathering between our bellies.
I feel him relax and gently kiss my neck; his fluids dripping out of my vagina; my clitoris still pulsating from his thrusts. I tighten and relax my vagina muscles around his penis, his whole body twitches. He gasps slightly as his penis continues to be stroked inside of me. “Don’t,” he says, “too much.” His penis slowly slides out of me, his breathing returns to normal as he continues to kiss my neck, my collarbone, my sternum, my belly, my pubic hair.

His hair falls forward tickling my check and he continues to breathe gently into my ear. His hair is drying, it starts to curl and I have an irresistible urge to touch it with my fingertips. I jerk awake, half-sitting sitting up.
“John,” I say “what’s going on?” My voice is dry, hoarse from the day’s events.
“Hey,” he says, “you’re back”.

I nod, hesitant. I look around; I can focus, I can see him clearly; he is fully dressed as am I. Confused, I look at him; I’m not at the beach; we’re in my room and he is sitting beside me on my bed; a look of confusion on his face. The lights are low and I hear the crash of the ocean outside my bedroom.

“We missed you at the de-brief meeting.” He points to the ear-piece sitting on the night table. “We couldn’t get a hold of you, so I came to see if you were all right.”

Nodding, I swing off my bed in the opposite direction of where he sitting. I walk around the bed to my night table and grab my ear-piece. “I’m fine, let’s go”, I say, not looking at him. I need to leave this room; I need the time to re-focus.


“Yeah, let’s go,” I repeat and move closer to the door. He doesn’t move off my bed, but continues to stare at me. The realization hits me hard and a wave of nausea overcomes me. “How long have you’ve been in my quarters?” I ask.

He looks down at his boots. “About twenty minutes.” He pauses and says seriously. “I, ah, didn’t want to interrupt your dream.” He looks directly at me. “I know how tired you are; the past week hit us all pretty hard.” The tips of his ears are pink and his voice is unsure. “It sounded pretty good; it looked pretty intense.”

There is silence, I say nothing. “He must be one lucky guy.” He let his voice trail off to a quiet whisper.

Another wave of nausea hits me and I can feel the colour drain from my face. “Let’s go,” I say and head out the door.

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