It started raining in the afternoon and by dusk it was a full blown storm. The wind whipped around the side of the house and pulled sand off the beach and right into the air. Paul decided to move his boat and tackle up the shore a little more just to be on the safe side. He struggled through the wind towards the beach, his rain slicker made useless by the driving wind that seemed to be blowing the rain in all directions at once.
Paul heaved the overturned fishing skiff a good twelve feet higher up the shore. He'd never seen the water rise even close to that height. He gathered his nets and the tackle buckets next and stowed them underneath the boat. Paul was completely soaked by this time so he stood there catching his breath and staring out at the heaving surf. Huge waves rolled in one on top of the other and then receded back into the sea.
Just as Paul was about to turn back for home he noticed one of the incoming waves deposited a rather large piece of flotsam on the shore. The bundle rolled in the surf and almost got dragged out again. Overcome with curiosity, Paul went over to investigate the bundle. He told himself that it was probably just a piece of sail or something but he needed to know for sure.
He waded into the surf and turned the bundle over to get a better look. It was very heavy. The bundle was a person, a woman, wrapped up in her own dress. Logic told Paul that she was most likely already dead but he still couldn't just leave her here. He got on his knees in the wet sand, ignoring a wave that dragged them both toward the churning sea. He slid his arms under the woman and lifted her up. Paul staggered up the beach and when he was out of reach of the tide he set his charge down on the sand.
He cleared her wet hair off her face and checked for a pulse at her neck. He felt a faint but steady beat against his finger tips. Paul opened her mouth and, pressing his open lips the hers, breathed into her lungs again and again. He was losing her. Panicked he pumped her chest a few times and breathed into her again. She chocked and gasped. Coughed water out of her lungs and convulsed. Paul laughed with relief, shaking. The woman breathed deeply and opened her eyes against the driving rain. Her eyes met Paul's for a moment. "Oh god. Thank you." she breathed and then fainted.
Paul tried to lift her again but he knew she would be too heavy to carry back up to his house, sodden as she was. He searched for the fastening of her dress but couldn't find them. The garment was ruined anyway so he ripped it down the front and carefully extracted her limp body from the wet cloth. Paul wasn't accustomed to seeing naked women but this was hardly the situation in which to ogle this woman's body. He lifted her easily now and trudged through the sand with her, back to his little house on the bluffs above the water.
He stumbled through the door and dithered about laying the woman on his bed. She was caked in sand and salt water. He laid her on the floor instead, she was unconscious anyway and wouldn't mind the rudeness. He went into the tiny bathroom and started filling the tub with water. He stripped off his own sodden shoes and his shirt but left his pants on, in case she woke up and thought something untoward. When the bath was full Paul picked the woman up again and lowered her into the warm water. She fluttered her lids and mumbled something but did not revive.
Now that she was in the well lighted bathroom Paul could see that the young woman wore a single white pearl around her neck on a delicate silver chain. He wondered if he should remove it to wash her but decided to leave it on.
Paul carefully dipped her hair back into the water and rested he head so she could breathe. He soaped his hands and carefully started washing her. He had been with women some but it was always quick and passionate and in the dark. There was not time for contemplation or exploration. He lifted each of her thin arms and washed them up and down. She seemed so fragile to him. He could have snapped her in his hands like a twig. He washed her legs, feeling the soft smooth skin of her thighs. He ran his hands up her flat white belly and over her breasts. He was getting aroused which was totally inappropriate. She was unconscious and therefore not consenting to his touch. He left her body and carefully washed her hair. It was long and dark and a mess of tangles. It would be a hard job to comb them out tomorrow.
Paul started to lift the woman from the tub and then put her back in again. Leaving her there he spread two towels out on his bed and deposited her there. He dried her gently and blotted her hair. He covered her in several quilts because the night was fairly cold, and went to take his own bath.
Paul refilled the tub and then he relaxed into the water. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his nose. He could still hear the storm pounding outside. Paul got the soap and started washing himself. He thought about the woman, he remembered her soft thighs and how her breasts felt in his hand, soft and heavy. He imagined squeezing her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples to watch them tighten. He imagined himself running his soapy hands up her thighs and further, to her sex. He imagined it warm and slick.
As Paul imagined he stroked his cock in an open fist. It was hard and hot. He ran a thumb over the tip and then squeezed the shaft. Paul groaned a little. He raised himself out of the water a little to check that the woman was still sleeping. She was. Paul sank back into the tub to finish up his fantasy. He imagined sliding his cock into her slick warm hole. He imagined how it she would hold him inside caressing every inch of his hard cock. He stroked his own cock steadily until he came with grunt, pumping his balls dry into the cooling bathwater.
When he was done, Paul made a bed for himself on the floor and fell promptly asleep. When he awoke the next morning the first thing he realized was that it was quiet, the storm had stopped. Next he remembered what had happed last night and he rolled over to look at the bed. The woman still slept. He put his ear to her mouth but she was breathing regularly, only sleeping. He dressed himself and found a shirt of his and some drawstring pants that the woman could wear. He added an undershirt and socks to the pile and put it on the table beside the bed.
Not wanting to linger, Paul went outside to survey the damage the storm had wrought.
~ ~ ~ ~
Paul spent a good hour down on the beach. He checked his boat and tackle and spent some time walking the beach to see if anything interesting had washed up. There was a lot of debris. Mostly things that had washed off of a different shore but there was also some planking that looked like it had come from a boat and sailcloth and ropes. Paul was sure that at least one vessel had gone down last night. Maybe that's where the woman came from.
When Paul couldn't stall anymore be ventured back to the house. As he got closer he started to get nervous. His heart pounded as he climbed the three steps to the front door. Paul scuffed his feet intentionally to let the woman know he was coming in. when Paul entered the house the woman was up, dressed and sitting at his tiny table, drinking a cup of water.
"Uh. Hello." Paul stammered, shyly lowering his eyes to the floor. Now that she was awake and looking like a real person instead of some water nymph, Paul was ashamed of last night's fantasy.
