It was an opportunity for us to see each other that we couldn't pass up. I was 'supposed' to be attending an International Trade Show at the Houston Convention Center, and Maribeth was 'supposed' to be working at the VA hospital in Dallas, but somehow we found ourselves in a small hotel located way down at the end of Galveston Beach. It didn't have much in the way of amenities, but it did have the virtue of being secluded.
I had recently discovered Maribeth's passion for beaches; beaches for bathing, beaches for sunning, beaches for picnics and beaches just to get out and walk.
Today we were going to walk on the beach.
I slipped into my black ARMY bathing suit; with the green muscle shirt that Maribeth described as my "Goodwill" rag. She asked me if she should wear the cute one-piece, or the sexy bikini that she'd bought as a reward when she had lost 10 pounds. While I do like cute, I'm randy this morning, so no real choice. Bikini!
I watched as Maribeth stripped down and noticed her habit of always putting the bra on first. This dates back some thirty years previously when we first made love in a hotel in Norfolk. I had commented on how erotic it was for me to see her 'bottemless' and Maribeth had always made it a point to display herself in this manner when she could ever since.
There definitely was some sexual tension building, but we both were looking forward to a walk on the beach, so off we went. It was mid-week so it wasn't very crowded; a few kids surfing; someone way up the beach fishing (don't know for what); and a couple in beach chairs not far away.
The sand was warm, but not to the point of burning our soles, but since Galveston Beach is more 'pebbley' than 'sandy' it was only so-so for a barefoot walk, but it meant that we had to pay attention to where we stepped.
Maribeth had put on a sun hat, sunglasses and a yellow open knit shirt that in my opinion wasn't covering up very much. I had put on sunglasses and my worn Army hat, so I looked like I just stepped out of the movie "Tropic Thunder."
Maribeth was laughing at me again. I asked, "Up or down", and she pointed in the general direction of the fisherman.
As we walked along the shore, we occasionally stepped into the surf to cool our feet. The conversation was light, mostly about work challenges and what to have for lunch. We passed the fisherman, but he didn't seem to notice. I looked in his catch pail and saw nothing, we continued up the beach walking hand in hand.
Pretty soon we arrived at a stretch of beach that was primarily grassy dunes with paths of sand meandering between them, a little like a maze, but not very complicated. If Maffi had been along, the view from 6 inches above the ground would probably be more frightening, but as we know, Maffi was not along. You can't walk a cat!
It was a beautiful day and the surf rolling in from the Gulf of Mexico was barely more than ripples. Looking at the serenity, it was hard to imagine the ferocious hurricanes that had pummeled this stretch of beach in past years, particularly the one in 1900 which killed 8,000 people and was regarded as the deadliest hurricane in American history.
We'd gone about a mile and the end of the beach was visible so in a few more minutes we'd soon have to turn around. We hadn't seen anyone other than the fisherman but our walk had been interrupted several times when we stopped and kissed. When we did, I could taste the salty sweat on our lips which, for some reason, I found highly erotic. As our lips met, I noted that almost every time we have kissed in private that Maribeth's fingers invariably wrapped themselves into the hair on the back of my head and conversely my hand always seemed to find and squeeze the soft mound of her breast.
A few minutes later, as we passed a section of dunes we were surprised to come upon a couple about our age, lying on a blanket, mostly hidden from view. They were perhaps twenty yards away and at that moment they were so into each other that our presence went unnoticed. They were both naked, well almost naked, he had on a hat, and she was still wearing her sandals.
The woman was laying on her back, her head slightly raised by a rolled up towel. One of her legs was bent such that, for the moment, a view between her legs was blocked. The man was stretched out on his left side, his lips locked with hers, and his right hand was cupping and slowly kneading her left breast. His erection, now pressed up against her raised leg, was only partially visible.
We of course stopped immediately, and I saw Maribeth's hand quickly cover her mouth, as we both looked on in surprise. She glanced in my direction and took a step backwards, intending to leave, since we have clearly invaded their privacy.
Maribeth pulled on my arm, but when I didn't follow, she paused and looked at me questioningly. I smiled and just nodded toward the lovers and pulled her back against my body.