Little Bird



Day 4. Sunset.

His eyes were fixed on that one point on the beach and sure, there she was. Her long dress kissed her bare ankles. Bare shoulders, bare feet, hair loose and moving in the slight breeze, her sandals swinging from the fingers of her left hand. The picture was one he still saw in his mind when he closed his eyes. It had been with him all day, making him come out to the veranda earlier than normal, afraid of missing her, but not even knowing whether she would be there today. He knew she could disappear just as mysteriously as she had appeared four days ago.

The first time Charles saw her, he took her for a chance visitor. Someone who drove by and discovered this quiet beach purely by accident. But, the next day at sunset she was there again. Same woman, different dress, same sad drooping of her shoulders. Since the third time he saw her, he couldn’t get her out of his mind anymore. Why was she so sad? What brought her to this beach, standing there at the end of the day, seemingly staring out over the sea until it was too dark to see anything anymore? Charles had no idea how long she stayed on the beach every evening. The last days he watched her until it was too dark to see her anymore. He took another sip of his whisky, put the glass back on the table and stood up. After only a moment’s hesitation he walked down to the beach, to where she stood staring out over the ocean.

“Hello,” Charles said when he stopped about a meter from where she stood.
Her free hand flew to her face and dropped to her sides again before she turned around.
Her voice was thick with tears. She hadn’t managed to wipe all her tears. Some were still stuck to her eyelashes. The first thing Charles thought of when he saw her face was that she looked like a little bird. Broken. Her stooping shoulders reinforced this image in his mind. Charles had to ignore the urge to pull her close and comfort her.
“Can I…,” he cleared his throat, “can I help you?”
She shook her head and more tears formed in her eyes before she turned back to the ocean. Charles instinctively moved toward her, hesitated for a moment and then put his arms around her. Her body tensed for a couple of seconds and then she relaxed against him.

They stood like that until the sun disappeared into the sea.
“I have to go,” she said.
“Wait,” Charles said, “what’s your name?”
“Charlotte,” she said and started to walk away.
“I’m Charles,” he called after her, with a smile on his face.
Charlotte turned around, looked at him curiously with tears still visible on her eyelashes. With a slight smile on her face she turned around and disappeared into the darkness.

Charlotte was back the next day, much earlier than she appeared on the previous days. She stood in the same spot as the previous days, but now with her back turned to the sea, inspecting the houses on the edge of the beach. Charles saw her from his chair and stood up. The movement caught her eye. After a moment’s hesitation she started walking towards him. Charles waited for her at the bottom of the stairs to his veranda. There was a couple of awkward moments when she reached him.
“Is Charles really your name?”
He nodded.
“Such a coincidence,” she smiled.
That seemed to put both of them at ease. Again the images of a little bird flashed through his mind. A little bird held back by a broken leg. She looked so delicate and despite the smile, he saw the sadness in her eyes. There was no way he could explain his protective feelings for this woman, who was essentially a stranger to him.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked.
When he returned to the veranda, she was sitting on the stairs, staring out over the sea. Her eyes were dry but the sadness wasn’t gone. They sat next to each other, each with a mug of hot tea.
“My husband died a year ago,” Charlotte said.
Charles didn’t speak.
“I came here to scatter his ashes into the sea.”
“Why here?” Charles asked?
“He was born in the village,” Charlotte answered and Charles nodded.
“But, it’s difficult to do it alone. I have to move on with my life. It stood still for the last year, but I’m ready to start living again. I just need to set this last step to fulfill his wish. To scatter his ashes into the sea he loved so much. Will you help me?”
By way of answer, Charles put his arm around Charlotte’s shoulders and pulled her closer.

That same evening with sunset, they scattered the ashes. Charles held Charlotte in his arms as she cried and totally unintended from both sides, the comforting ended in an exploring kiss. Charles noticed the taste of strawberries on her lips. Only one kiss. Every day for the two weeks that followed, they spent together walking on the beach, sitting on the veranda, reading and talking and watching the sunset together. They didn’t kiss or hold hands. They didn’t touch each other. The time was spent getting to know each other, talking about past loves, about Charlotte’s life after her husband died and about Charles’s life as an artist.

One late afternoon they sat on the beach like they did so many times before, waiting for the sun to disappear. Charles noticed that Charlotte sat down closer to him than the previous days. He had been dying to touch her, but he wanted her to set the pace. Were things about to change? Suppressing the urge to touch her, he lay back and looked at the clouds drifting by on the wind.
“Oh I love looking at the clouds,” Charlotte said and lay down next to him, her arm touching his.
Charles’s fingers sought for hers. Fingers intertwined. Heart rates increased. Heads turned. Charles pushed himself up on one elbow. A kiss followed. Breathing became louder. Charlotte smiled as Charles lay back again. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. They looked at each other again. Charlotte blushed and looked away. Charles looked back at the clouds.

Moments later Charlotte swung her leg over Charles and sat on top of him. She bent forward and kissed him. Charles put his arms around her and held her close when their kiss ended.
“I’ve been waiting two weeks for this,” Charlotte whispered.
“I wanted to give you time,” Charles said.
Charlotte looked into his eyes for a long time.
“I’ve had enough time,” she said suggestively.
Their first lovemaking was passionate and rough. Their lips crushed on each other while their hands explored. Charlotte struggled to undo the button and zipper on Charles’s jeans. Charles pulled her summer’s dress up and groaned when he discovered that she wore nothing underneath. The sound of their ragged breathing drowned the sound of the waves breaking and lapping at the beach. Charlotte slipped her hand into Charles’s pants and found his hard cock. She moaned and kissed Charles hard, while lifting her hips and guiding her into him.

The warmth of Charlotte’s pussy enveloped Charles like a comforting blanket. He allowed her to set the pace, savoring each moment his cock almost slipped out of her pussy, only to have all of it pushed in again. Apparently Charlotte wanted more.
“Fuck me. Please. Fuck me.”
Charles took over. His hands were on her buttocks, squeezing her flesh. He held her still, pushing in and out. Hard. Harder.
“Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes,” Charlotte chanted in his ear.
Their hearts pounded against each other as orgasms built. Charlotte was the first to feel an orgasm rushing through her body. Her pussy tightened around Charles’s cock, which almost sent him over the edge too. But he wanted to make her come once more before he would allow himself to do the same. With unabated passion he continued to fuck Charlotte, until she arched her back and a low grunt escaped her throat. She climaxed for the second time within minutes and only then Charles allowed himself his own release.

They walked back to his house, hand in hand. At the bottom of the stairs Charles pulled Charlotte closer. His hands framed her face.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asked.
Charlotte nodded and Charles smiled.
His little bird was healing.

Written for Charlie’s Ultimate Summer Playlist Competition 

Source photo

© Rebel’s Notes

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