"Smith, Guy N - Crabs 05 - Crabs' Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Guy N)

There were plenty of shady places, well-used sandy indentations amidst the coarse grass. Irey felt herself becoming tense again. God, Alan would kill her if he got to know she'd been in here with a feller. Her flood of guilt terminated in a lump in her throat as she noticed a small object half-buried in the sand by her foot. There was no mistaking its identity - a used condom. But you came across them everywhere these days, no place was sacred. And it wasn't any of her business.

This is fine,' Keith was lowering himself down to the ground, pulling her with him. 'It'll be nice to be out of the sun for a while.'

A moment's awkward silence. His hand was on her thigh again but suddenly it was an exciting prospect. He obviously thought something of her or else he wouldn't have brought her here; he could have had his pick of the tarts back at the Blue Ocean Holiday Camp if it was sex he was after. And he wasn't getting that. Surely he knew.

His face was close to hers, wafting some masculine odour, a strong aftershave. She closed her eyes, shuddered as his lips found hers, felt a wave of goose-pimples flooding her skin. Damn Alan, this served him right. She hadn't been kissed like this for years.

Irey checked, stiffened, and had to stop herself from pushing Keith's fingers away. He'd got a hand inside her T-shirt and was already making a nipple stiffen. Schoolboy stuff! Fifteen years ago a girl would have been shocked; nowadays she was shocked if it didn't happen.

'I fancy a swim,' he murmured in her ear. 'How about you?'

'I haven't brought a costume with me.'

'You don't need one here. I don't have one, anyway.'

'There was a sign back at the entrance forbidding nude bathing.'

'Sure, but nobody will bother us up this end. Not today, anyway. I noticed one or two on the sands further up had stripped off.'

'I don't really know,' Irey wished she didn't blush so easily. 'I'll have to think about it.' It sounded churlish.

Tell you what, Irey, suppose I go and have a dip first for a few minutes. Then I'll come back and tell you how lovely and cool the water is and that there's nobody about. Then we'll both go in, eh?'

'Oh, all right.' She knew she'd end up going in the sea whatever she said. The idea was exciting. It was just that she needed time to think about it ... to savour the prospect.

Through slitted eyes she watched her companion undress. She had been aware as they kissed that he was aroused but the sudden exposure, the quivering length of solid male flesh took her breath away. Suddenly this whole affair was for real, a muscular lover whose intention was to take her here in the dunes. Infidelity! She cringed, thought about leaping up and running. Don't be bloody crazy, girl! It was a long walk back across the causeway and up to Llanbedr. From there she would have to hitch-hike back to the camp. She tried telling herself that Keith wouldn't do anything she really didn't want. He would just be persuasive like most men were. She only had to say 'no'. It was as easy as that.

She lay there trembling, aware of a moistness between her thighs which wasn't just sweat. Her whole body was crying out for something she needed, something she didn't get very often these days. Nobody would ever know. She wouldn't end up with a baby because she was on the Pill.

So hot and stiff. Just the faint sound of the sea so far away and a thudding like native tom-toms. It took her some time to realise that it was her own heart thumping.

Sudden impetuosity. She sat up, tugged the damp T-shirt free of her body and unclipped her bra in almost the same motion. Eagerly she wriggled out of her crumpled skirt, threw it to one side. Her pants followed it.

She lay back with an audible sigh. Stark naked, God it felt good, like being unshackled after years of incarceration in some dark dungeon. So relaxing, as though the tension which had been building up inside her had suddenly been released.

She wondered how long Keith would be. She couldn't wait to see his face when he returned and found her like this.

She yawned and her eyes threatened to close.

Keith Baxter padded on to the wet sand and glanced about him. Those other bathers were nowhere to be seen; perhaps they had gone back to their tents or else were sheltering from the sun in the dunes. He glanced down at himself, grinned. It wouldn't do to be seen with an erection like he'd got. Some bloody woman would probably start screaming blue murder and he'd either be thrown off the island or else the police would come. They'd call it flashing and run him in. Even on the bona-fide nudist beaches you weren't supposed to get a hard-on. Nudism wasn't supposed to arouse the sexual urges. But it was different when you had got a half-conquered bird lying in the dunes awaiting your return.

He broke into a canter, the sand becoming very soft now. Hell, the tide was a good way out and still ebbing. He half considered giving up and returning to Irey but he had come too far. Just a quick dip, enough so that he could go back to her, his body glistening with droplets of sea water.

The water was damnably cold in spite of the heat of the day. Baxter gasped aloud, pushed further in. The first few seconds were always the worst. He caught his breath, plunged forward unexpectedly as the ground beneath him shelved sharply. For one moment he was totally submerged, then he was swimming strongly, kicking and splashing, invigorated.

A natural swimmer, he turned on his back, floated, felt the slight pull of the tide. From here he could make out the line of sand-dunes, the ragged silhouette of the long grass against the deep blue sky. So remote, he might have been swimming somewhere off a deserted Pacific island.

But he couldn't get his mind off Irey Wall. The quiet kind, all her sexual urges bottled up inside her until she almost forgot she had them. Almost. He laughed aloud, a guttural flat sound out here at sea. You pulled out the cork and hey presto! - she was transformed into a raving little nympho who couldn't get enough. The kind that became a nuisance sometimes because if you gave it to them good enough they latched on to you like a limpet and swore they weren't ever going back to hubby. But Keith Baxter would be on his bike long before it reached that stage. He laughed again.