Lover's Point

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PM2K
Always Remembered
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Lover's Point

Postby PM2K » Fri May 01, 2015 6:31 am

Lovers Point - by PM2K

A steaming hot day. The early summer sun struggles to burn through the hazy veil of clouds. Beneath a large white umbrella, stuck in the golden brown sand of the deserted beach, two naked lovers grapple atop a yellow blanket. Swimsuits lie atop a cooler bag, discarded as barriers to passion.
Shaking with physical pleasure, Jen cries out, clutching Derek tightly, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, her narrow feet and toes flexing, crossed at her ankles. Dark auburn hair cropped tight to her ears in a page boy bob, her petite gymnast's body is in constant motion, hips pumping him steadily with wet smacking sounds, keeping time with his thrusts. Her mouth is hungry for his, struggling past his teeth to ensnare his tongue, sucking it inside.
"Yes... yes... fuck me... fuck me harder..." she gasps through the sloppy kiss, and Derek struggles to do just that, trying to ignore the sharp ache building inside his back muscles and legs. God, she's going to kill me... he thinks, starting to feel every one of the years which forms the age gap between them.
The older man, salt and pepper hair cut military style, took pride in his body, which shows the impact of being an avid runner, swimmer and cyclist. Still, the 55 year old knows it takes almost all of his prowess to try and satisfy his young student, who's appetites seem more like a succubus than a human.
With a strangled grunt, as much of pain as pleasure, Derek finishes, and rolls onto his back. Jen continues to cling to him, and ends up on top of his prone form, squirming as her own fireworks go off, her innards clamping down hard on the stiff penis still thrust deep within her.
The two lie quietly for a time, absorbed in each others eyes - hers a bright green, his a steel gray - and the slipperiness of their bodies, soaked in sweat and other fluids. Jen kisses Derek, a quick peck on the lips, then starts wiggling her hips, massaging his dick with her hungry pussy.
"God, honey..." Derek groans. "Can we take five or something? At least let me catch my breath..."
She smiles, her eyes narrowing catlike. He feels the nipples on her small, well rounded breasts dig into his shaved chest sharply as she presses herself tight against him, moving slowly side to side.
"What? And waste that little blue pill of yours?" Jen purrs. She leans forward to nuzzle his neck. "Not on your life..."

Despite the dangers, or perhaps because of them, Derek had a well deserved reputation at the college for flings with his students, but never before with one as young as Jen. Meeting her two years previously at one of his first year classes, he was struck by her elfin beauty, shy ways and graceful movements, and found himself quickly looking for excuses to get together with her alone.
Once the ice was broken, Derek found himself taken off guard by the young woman, who seemed to possess the sexual energy of a dozen people. Jen proved to be an eager student of the erotic arts.
Derek found he had met his match in her, who repeatedly proved far more passionate and adventurous than his wife Laura. She had grown cold to him over the years, a feeling which was mutual, but neither could afford the fallout of a divorce.
It didn't stop the accusations and harsh exchanges of words, of course, which remained the sole source of passion between them.
With Jen, though... the dark haired vixen was a force of nature, determined to take him as often as possible. He was more than happy to oblige...

When their second anniversary of their first hook up came around, Derek thought spending some time on the coast would be a great way to mark it. And he knew the perfect place to do so...
"The Beachcomber Inn? Awesome!" Jen squealed. The couple were in a motor inn, one of their regular love nests, when he made the suggestion. She was straddling him, dressed in her high school uniform from St. Andrew's Academy, white blouse open to expose her perky breasts, green tartan skirt around her waist, white socks and shoes still in place. Her underwear hangs from her left ankle, part of the fantasy they were enacting.
It was a place where they spent their first weekend away from campus, returning there a couple of times a year, but usually in the late fall or early spring. Not in the summer, which is what Derek was proposing. It just so happened there was an academic conference taking place a few miles further south at another college. He just needed to make an appearance at the beginning on the Monday, then help close it before it ended Friday before the holiday weekend. The rest of the week would be theirs.
"Aren't you afraid of crowds?" she asked.
"There shouldn't be any midweek..." he replied. "We can go swimming, biking, exploring... you name it..."
"I always wanted to have sex on the beach..." Jen said. "Just spend hours and hours and hours slowly screwing outdoors..."
Derek laughed. He suspected as much.

After spending a couple of days there, Derek began to make discrete inquiries as to quiet places by the ocean for a couple who wanted to be alone for a while.
Lynn, the inn's owner, suggested a secluded area down by the beach, which she said is ideal for romantic encounters. The place is well known, the middle aged brunette told the couple, and few get out there even on holiday weekends. It should be completely deserted midweek.
With a sly look, she whispered to Jen, "Someone could shout their lungs out, and no one would hear them..." which caused the 20 year old to smile mischievously. Derek and her had been a little noisy the night before...

That morning they set out, wearing their bathing suits, to the location, guided by a local map, which was customized with a network of ball point pen markings and arrows, showing them the location. It proved to be a long bike ride, but by 11 o'clock they had reached the ridge of dunes which ring their destination.
Derek and Jen dashed down to the beach, which as the inn's owner had said, was indeed secluded. The golden brown sand is mainly flat, with some dried ripples across it to add texture. It is a mix of smooth silt and rough grains, all slightly damp underfoot, but neither of them were thinking of that, as they quickly unfurled the blanket, set up the umbrella and shed their garments...

That was several hours ago. An erectile pill and Jen's mouth had boosted his flagging energies, but after their latest bout of coupling, Derek is finding himself fading once again. He remains rock hard within her, but lacks the energy to move.
It is now late afternoon, and lying back with Jen on top, who is busy using her hips to persuade him into action again, he is vaguely uncomfortable. The sand beneath him feels a little... weird... Pressing against his back through the blanket, which has become sodden over the course of the afternoon, it seems softer somehow, more springy, reminding Derek of the waterbed back at the inn.
Glancing over the beach, he notices a few dark patches forming on the sand, as if it had been raining recently. He also notices the umbrella had fallen over sometime during their lovemaking, something they overlooked. The light gray sky had no affect on the air which remains suffocatingly warm and sticky, yet he feels uneasy...
"C'mon, lover!" Jen says, shaking her pelvis while grinning broadly. "It's time for the next round!"
"Okay... okay..." Derek says, succumbing to Jen's efforts and the almost painful aching in his penis, still trapped within her hot wet folds. She really is a sexual dynamo.
"But you do all the work this time, okay?"
Jen grins wickedly in response. Naked, straddling a man older than her father, she has never been happier in her life.

The last two years have been sheer bliss. A miserable childhood, followed by a rotten junior high and a slutty high school have been erased completely once she hooked up with her prof.
After years of being belittled and ignored, of letting others have their way with her in a sad attempt to find love and attention, whatever its form... here, now, was a man who wanted her, lusted after her body, obsessed over her, not because she was convenient, but because she is Jen.
The night she made Derek call out her name for the first time, Jen had wept, hiding her sobs behind cries of passion. That was the beginning of a new page in her life. A new chapter. No... a new life.
She wasn't naive. She knew this was just a physical attraction, nothing more. But it is enough.
Enough to agree to murder.

Derek suggested it one night, while the two were still entwined and wet from their lovemaking.
"We could be free of her..." he said.
"And you'd be rich..." Jen replies, smiling slyly. Noticing his worried expression, she laughs. "Oh, no... don't worry... I would love to fuck a rich guy for a change..."
The two had laughed... before Jen pulled Derek down on her again for another round.

It had been a tricky juggling act, but he managed to set up an iron clad alibi with a friend of his, one who liked his sour mash whiskey a little too much. During a conference held several town over, the pair made a show of living it up at several taverns... and, staggered back to their hotel in front of just about everyone to crawl into their room to sleep it off.
Except... Derek wasn't nearly as drunk as he seemed to be, and neither was his companion. He had waited for the right moment to slip a small amount of powder into his friend's glass... and dragged his semiconscious form around while staggering and slurring his own speech.
With his buddy snoring away in bed and unlikely to remember anything, Derek snuck out of the hotel and to the car waiting for him, with Jen behind the wheel....
An hour and a half later, the pair were inside his house, listening to the splashing sounds as Laura struggles for her life in the large, stand alone bathtub. Derek held her from behind, hand clamped around her mouth while Jen grasped her wrists and used a box cutter to make the incisions, splitting the nude woman's forearms and blood vessels from the inner crook of her elbow to the wrists. For good measure, she slashes those as well.
The water turned crimson and cloudy, Derek holding on as Laura bled out. Jen watched her kick and thrash, feeling a rising excitement at her rival's death throes. Once Laura stopped moving, Derek let her go, and her body slowly slipped down to her nose in the gory water.
Jen giggles, then places the box cutter carefully in the tub, beside Laura's right hand.
A quick cleaning job around the tub to remove signs of a struggle, then back to the car, and the hotel... The perfect crime.
And it remained so, more than two years later.

"Ride 'em, cowgirl..." Jen says in a low growl, placing her hands on Derek's chest and using the leverage to push herself into an upright position. She groans, hips shuddering as she feels his hard penis shift within her, rubbing against all the right parts. She spreads her thighs a little wider, determined to drive him as deep inside her as possible, and can't resist rolling her pelvis from side to side, making him moan in response.
Jen shifts her weight to her knees and legs, which lie parallel on either side of Derek, and leans back further...
To her surprise, she feels her shins push into the beach blanket and through the sand. The wet fabric wraps around her limbs as they glide through a thick slurry of sand and water...
What the hell...?
Shifting again, Jen straightens out her legs, only to find them pushing downwards, gliding into the beach as if it is a dense jelly. Her descent is rapid, and she grunts as she feels Derek's cock stab into her to the hilt, his balls slapping against the underside of her ass.
"Oh, God..." he gasps, his hips rising out of reflex to meet Jen's downward motion. Distracted, he fails to notice how his movements are affecting the sand he is lying upon, how it is beginning to liquify and form itself around his body.
"Ugh... Derek... stop..." Jen pants, struggling to keep her own body from responding to his motions. She can feel the sand flowing sluggishly around her legs, and finds she can barely move them. Straining, she tries to extract her right leg from the quivering, gritty mass, a motion which forces her insides to slide against the rigid phallus pulsing against her.
Shuddering in reaction, Jen tries to force herself to stop wiggling. Her legs now hang straight down on either side of Derek, sealed in place by the sodden sand, which has crept over the beach towel and laps at her upper thighs. In effect, she has pinned her lover to the beach.

With Jen on top, Derek finds he has limited mobility. Beneath him, the sand wobbles and flows like jelly, and he is unsettled by how it has begun to ooze against his sides, and how her weight is pushing him deeper into it. Already, his muscular ass has sunk past its rubbery surface, and he feels the backs of his legs slip down.
Oh God... The realization hits him as the sand cups the back of his head.
"Honey... don't panic now..." Derek says, "but I think we're in trouble..."
Jen looks down at him, her face flushed. She notices how the sand has been slowly rippling around the pair in response to their movements, and is horrified to see her man now half sunk in the rippling wet slurry they seem to be now floating upon.
"Oh, God... Derek... what... what's happening?" she stammers, her mind struggling to grasp the situation. She is all too aware of how the sand is sucking hard on her legs and feet, but can't understand how this could be occurring.
Beneath her, Derek tries to fight his own rising sense of panic. He can feel himself slowly sinking deeper with each passing moment, but is helpless to do anything about it, pinned as he is to the rapidly softening sand.
"Jen... I think... no... I know... we're in quicksand..."

Saying it out loud makes him shiver, as the words make their peril into reality.
Jen's eyes widen, concern and fear washing over her elfin features. She looks around, just now noticing how wet the small swath of beach they were on has become. The darkened sand glistens with numerous puddles, scattered across its surface.
"But how? How?" she says. Her knowledge of quicksand is restricted to the handful of adventure movies and TV shows. It just doesn't make sense that something could be solid for hours, and then in a moment...
"Tide... must be high tide... liquifying the sand..." Derek pants. The backside of his body has pushed deep into the quaking surface, slimy sand filling his ears. He struggles to right himself, but cannot get any leverage. And then there's Jen, who's weight keeps pushing him downwards...
"Oh, God... no! No!"
Jen begins to panic. She has a deep terror of drowning, and drowning in sand seems a particularly horrible fate. The sand is sucking hard on her, eager and hungry, ready to devour her. Thrashing in place, ignoring the flashes of sensation deep within her hot, slippery core, she pushes hard against Derek, trying to dislodge the phallus pinning her to him. In doing so, she pushes him deeper into the deadly sand... "Jen! Stop that! Stop! You're pushing me under!" Derek gasps, feeling the quicksand flowing over the top of his chest. He wriggles, attempting to buck his lover off, but instead feels her pussy spasm and clamp down hard on him. They are now locked together.
"Jen! J... hrrrrrmppppph! Mpffff... blblbbb..."
Jen looks down in horror as Derek's face vanishes beneath the quicksand, his upturned mouth and nose bubbling as they fill with liquid sand. Her lover's body is now completely submerged, and she can feel him thrashing beneath her and between her thighs below the gritty surface.
Derek's arms suddenly emerge, and rise from their sandy grave, thickly coated with muddy slime, and his hands grasp Jen's sides, digging in to her ribs, as if to try and use her to escape this death trap. She screams, and struggles violently side to side to dislodge them.... not realizing her motions are loosening up the quicksand bed, making it quake in all directions.
Jen feels her belly and the curves of her ass become devoured by the warm, sloppy sand, even as she feels Derek stop squirming beneath her. His hands grow slack, and slowly slide down her sides to plop softly into the thick surface, then slipping under.

"Aaaaaaa! Someone! Help meeeeeeeeeee!"
Jen shrieks as the sand creeps up her waist towards her breasts, licking its way upward one rib at a time. The quicksand heaves and wobbles in time with her struggles. Deep below the sand, Derek's body drags her down, his cock still impaling her. Grotesquely, her movements against him are causing a delicious friction inside her, and despite her terror, or maybe because of it, she feels an orgasm building up. By the way her innards are twisting beyond her control, this will be a powerful one.
"Oh... oh... God!" Jen cries out, She is painfully aware of how hard her clit has become, rubbed mercilessly by quicksand since submerging. Her body responds by humping against the sensations, more for its needs and not her own. Her eyes widen as her breasts slap against the sand, her hands digging into the quivering surface. Sweat streams off of her exposed skin, running off her forehead to burn her eyes...
Overwhelmed, unable to stop, all she can do is gasp and moan wordlessly, while her mind screams in vain against this madness. But her body won't be denied its release... even as her motions drive her deeper into the quicksand... past her erect nipples... past the tops of her breast... to her collarbone...
Finally... the dam breaks and Jen wails, back arching against the dense sandy slime. Her body thrashes and spasms... she feels herself explode against Derek's cock, her pussy collapsing around it, sucking hard. Amazingly, Derek responds, a final thrust of his hips which sparks a fountain of semen to gush into her... the last act of a doomed lover.

Spent, sunk to the tops of her shoulders, Jen cannot move. She stares at the bubbles breaking the sand's surface, aware she is still sinking deeper into it.
She looks around, feeling quicksand flow over her shoulders and surround her neck. The beach remains deserted.
Quietly, she begins sobbing. There's no way she could escape now, even if there was anyone nearby. She feels the sand creep up to press softly under her chin and jaw line, then ooze over her earlobes to slip inside, muffling all outside sound.
It's karma... karma... Jen thinks, silently begging Laura's forgiveness. I was so happy... so happy to have someone need me... who trusted me to do...
Jen's eyes widen as she spots something, just as the sand slops over her chin. A flash! Something was reflecting the afternoon sun! Someone is nearby!
"Help! Help meeeeee!" she cries out, fighting the crushing weight of sand against her person. "I'm caught in quicksand! Heeellll.... gplb! Helgpbbb... Mpph! Mmmnghhh... blbbb..."
Jen's screams become thick and bubbly as quicksand fills her mouth. She thrashes, trying to wrench herself clear, only to drive her nose under the heavy slurry. Her air now sealed off, Jen's eyes bulge, filled with fear as she feels herself begin to suffocate. She tries to force in a last gasp of air, but only draws in more sand...
With a final shudder, Jen slips under, her eyes closing as the quicksand glides smoothly over her face and forehead. Her hair briefly ruffles on the churning surface as the top of her head vanishes, the shallow dent left behind filling in and smoothing out, leaving behind only a froth of bubbles.
For a time the wet sand shivers, bubbles, heaves. Then it stills.

Lowering the binoculars, Lynn nods in satisfaction. Now modestly dressed in a graying t-shirt, cut off shorts hugging the curves of her well-toned butt, and sandals, she is lying prone on the sand ridge about a quarter mile away, overlooking the point.
The brunette smiles grimly. The whole scene had played out before her eyes... and it had gone better than she had hoped.
There is a reason that section of beach is so private. It wasn't fenced off, but its isolation kept most visitors from finding it, and the locals knew to avoid it.
The sand looks and feels perfect underfoot, as long as it is low tide. What wasn't widely known is the sand filled a natural, clay lined basin. During high tides, the water lapped at the shoreline, but instead of covering the beach, flowed under it, quickly saturating it to form a bottomless death trap for the unwary.
A few warning signs had been posted along the paths approaching the beach, just in case. These lay in a small pile beside her.
Lynn continues to smile, but there is no humor in it. Such an arrogant bastard... carrying on like that in the open... and with a girl who could easily have been his daughter, for God's sake...
And after what they did...
She thinks of Laura... her old college roommate and closest friend... and her eyes water. The phone call she received from Laura more than two years ago had angered her with its news of Derek's infidelity... and of her worries about her safety.
"I saw it... saw it in his eyes..." she had said, her voice cracking over the phone. Lynn had listened as her friend outlined how she had confronted him privately about the affair and how he denied it, smirking, daring her to do something about it...
"He'll kill me... him and that little bitch of hers... I know it!"
"He wouldn't dare..." Lynn says calmly. "Derek may be an asshole, but he's not stupid... Something happens to you, the cops will make a beeline to his office... He's the only one who would benefit from your death, you know..."
Laura had sounded somewhat reassured when Lynn hung up the phone... and promised to consult a lawyer soon....
Two days later, Lynn was skimming over some local news sites when she was rocked back on her heels by a report of Laura's suicide. It was the lead story, not surprising considering Derek's position at the university, and his newfound wealth.
Suicide... slitting her wrists and forearms to her elbows in the bathtub... Shaking with a heady mix of grief, shock and rage, Lynn didn't believe the news for a minute.
Alibi or no alibi... she knew Derek was behind it.... but what could she do without proof?

Lynn packs away the binoculars and slowly rises to her feet as she brushes beach sand off of her shorts. A bicycle lies nearby, which she will use to get to her car, parked several miles away in a neighboring village. The area contained many hiking and cycling trails, so it is unlikely anyone would think twice about it, if she is spotted.
Even if she was, it didn't matter. This was her usual day off from the inn, anyway.
Leaning down, she scoops up the signs, ready to put them back in place. As she does so, Lynn once again remembers the day the couple had walked into her inn - of all places - as their vacation love nest. Shocked, she somehow managed to keep her surprise off of her face when she checked them in... wondering if Derek would remember her as a guest at his and Laura's wedding...
He didn't... and when they kept returning as guests, Lynn began to work out a plan...

I'll call the police tomorrow. Report the couple missing. No need to do anything else. I could even tell them the truth... how they had asked for a romantic spot outdoors, and I suggested they check out the beach.
Lynn smiles once more, a tear trickling down her cheek as she thinks of her friend.
Well, Laura.... I wonder if Derek's still smirking now... she thinks, strolling away from the scene.
As if in reply, the wet sand shudders, a last burst of bubbles disturbing its churned up surface. Then it slows and falls still once more.

Rusty Shackleford
Posts: 166
Joined: Wed Jul 08, 2009 3:06 am

Re: Lover's Point

Postby Rusty Shackleford » Fri May 01, 2015 11:49 pm

Very interesting twist there!

Rusty

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quagmire_uk
Posts: 1441
Joined: Wed Apr 15, 2009 11:04 am

Re: Lover's Point

Postby quagmire_uk » Sun May 03, 2015 1:28 am

That was impressive. I'm not a fan of grim endings... but couldn't help but enjoy that anyway. And of course its great when karmic retribution means don't have to feel sorry for the victims... ;)


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