Summer Lovin’ on Hengistbury Head
I notice people, I can’t help it. I tend to like people, look for their positive traits. Of course I also like to laugh at them. So I couldn’t help but notice this girl, well, young woman while I lay naked on the nudist beach at Hengistbury Head on England’s South Coast. I was very comfortable with being naked, especially when I stayed with my Gran in nearby Southbourne. She always encouraged me to wear the skimpiest of string bikinis elsewhere, and even brought me here to run around naked when I was a kid. So to me, being naked in a public place, well this public place, was pretty normal.
This woman was not like me in that regard, judging by her gleaming white bottom. I estimated that we were about the same height, which was not tall as I am 5’2”. But whereas I have long dark wavy hair, a big nose and a slender athletic body, she had curly strawberry-blonde shoulder-length hair, a snub nose, and a very round white bottom.
I had actually first noticed her when I had gone for a swim. The boulders below the cliff overlooking the beach made excellent shelter for nude sunbathing, making it rather more discrete from a passerby who may not be nude. She had set up quite near me, although I did not notice her at first. But as I rose from the waves and looked up the beach I saw her cute white bottom as she lay face down on her towel, and her cute freckled face looking nervously around. She tried to evade my gaze for a bit, but I stood there, naked and smiling at her, so eventually our eyes locked.
“Hi!” I said.
“Oh! Hello!” she said nervously, glancing around to see if I was attracting unwanted attention to her. “Um, not from around here?” She had quickly identified my Canadian accent.
“Genetically, yeah I am. My family have lived around here since the 17th century at least. But I was born in Canada.”
“Oh, wow. That must be nice!”
“I guess,” I said noncommittally, not entirely sure which she referred to. I thought I would leave her to her embarrassed silence and return to my towel.
But a little later, I noticed her sit up. She had small but cute and perky boobs, very white ones. Furtively she looked up and down the beach, which was clear of non-nudists. Then she leapt up, and made a dash for the water. Regrettably for her attempted dash, the beach is not as sandy as it is at nearby Bournemouth, so when she reached the first band of gravel she slowed down significantly. I sat there smiling at her as she shrieked at every pebble she stood on, and I slowly dusted off the sand from my feet and pulled my aqua socks/beach shoes on.
“Not from around here,” I thought to myself. “People who are not from around here walk bare-foot on a pebble beach!”
She reached a band of sand, then immediately there was another band of gravel. Gingerly she picked across the gravel bed, then looked up as I came hurtling down the beach oblivious to the pebbles.
“Woohoo!” I shouted as I leapt up and threw myself into the surf. She just stood there watching me.
“Come on!” I shouted “Before the grockles see you!” Encouraged, she moved as rapidly as she could across the gravel, then timidly stepped into the cold English Channel water. I splashed her, and she shrieked again. She seemed very good at that. Eventually she made it all the way in, and we splashed each other as she jumped up and down excitedly in the waves. She was as infectiously happy as a child.
“What’s a grackle?”
“Grockle. It’s what us locals call tourists. A grackle is a bird in Canada, actually.”
“Oh, that’s interesting,” she said, and strangely she seemed to mean it.
“My name’s Bellisima,” I said. “You can call me Bella if you like.”
“Wow, what a nice name! I’m Eleanor, you can call me Ellie!” She got all English at me, and came forward to shake my hand. Two naked girls standing in the surf and shaking hands.
“Pleased to meet you, Ellie,” I said “Eleanor is a great name, and I really love your freckles!” She got embarrassed at my words, so I splashed her. This turned into a bit of a splash war as we laughed and played in the surf.
“How can you have no tan lines!” she remarked.
“Hey, been checking out the bod have you?” I said, and I waggled my tanned ass at her. She giggled. It was a very cute giggle.
“I’m very jealous. I have such a white bum.”
“It’s an awesome bum! I like it!”
“Haha! The boys all call me bobble-bottom,” she said, and her face went pink. Well, pinker.
“You need to put sunscreen on it or it will just get burnt.”
“But I want it to get tanned, like yours. You’re a bit of a bubble-butt too!”
“Haha! Probably the ballet! I’ve been here for weeks, staying with my Gran. She has a garden with a big fence, and sometimes I come here. You need to take it slow or you burn, especially you! You’re so white!” I splashed her again.
Eventually we got out and lay on our towels, which we put next to each other. I had a couple of different bottles of sunscreen. I put on a high sun-protection on her previously exposed bits, and a low sun-protection cream on her ass.
“I love your bum, do you exercise to get it that shape?” She laughed.
“Family heirloom. This bum has been in the family for generations, my sisters all have it too. Although I do wish I had more out front to balance it.”
“I think you’re perfect.” I told her. I gave her bottom one last caress and then we laid next to each other in the sun for a while.
“Hey!” I said after a prolonged tanning session. “We should have another dip and then go to my Gran’s for tea, it’s a short walk.”
“Umm,” she said uncertainly. “If you like!” We walked down the beach together, then she started to gingerly walk across the pebbles. Quickly, I leaned forward, and lifted her onto my shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
“Aaahhh!” she screamed and wriggled, but I slapped her ass and told her to stop wiggling. I got her to the water, and we both fell into the cooling sea. We giggled and laughed and splashed. Then went to tea.
“You should stay here, my dear,” said my gran when she found out how much the Bed & Breakfast was charging her. “Any friend of Bellisima is welcome!”
“Oh I couldn’t!” said Ellie.
“Oh it’s no bother! I have plenty of room, here come and help me put out fresh sheets.” Ellie followed my Gran to the bedroom, and looked back at me with wide eyes. I shrugged, it was hopeless to resist my Gran, but I rather think that Ellie was pleased with the invite. I was very happy at the idea of her staying, in fact my heart seemed to be strangely racing at the thought.
That night I lay in bed thinking of Ellie. I thought of her sparkling blue eyes, her lovely smile, her cute butt, the feel of her skin, the smell of her. I really could not stop thinking about her no matter how much I tried. I just laid back and looked at the reflected moonlight playing on the ceiling. I really, really, wanted to see her. I jumped out of bed. I sleep naked, so I looked for something to throw on. Then there was a knock on the door. I opened the door to find Ellie in her nightie.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No! Not at all. I was having difficulty sleeping, actually. I was just lying there thinking of you.”
“Me too!” she smiled sheepishly in the moonlight. “So…you sleep in the nude.”
“Ummm…” I said. I meant to say “yes, it just so happens I do,” but then I said something else instead. “I think I’m in love with you.” Her mouth fell open.
“I’m sorry, it’s just I can’t stop thinking about you, and when you smile at me I…I…well, you make me feel…good. Okay, I mean, I’m not happy about myself sometimes, and it feels there are dark places inside of me where scary things live. But I look into your face and it feels like I am standing on a rock in space staring at the sun. And the light of your face just burns me away until I am transparent, like a glass vessel. And your light reaches down into every corner of me, and I know there is nothing in those dark corners to be afraid of. Crap. That sounds stupid.”
I might have said more stupid things, but Ellie decided to stop trying to catch flies, and kissed me instead.
I think we kissed all that night. I did get her nightie off, but really we were so intent on the kissing we didn’t do anything else. We also tried to kiss in the morning but my Gran rather felt we should have some food, so we went down and tried not to giggle all the way through breakfast.
Ellie and I went into Christchurch on bikes, I keep one there and my Gran has one. We went around the Priory, spent some time in the bookstore, and had tea on the waterfront before feeding the ducks. All the time we kept holding hands and stealing kisses when we thought no-one could see. In the bookstore we spent time in the self-help and health section, reading about Sagittarius (me) — Aries (her) compatibly and giggling about how sexually compatible we were. Then we looked at the rather meagre supply of sexual instruction manuals! They weren’t helpful.
The two of us rode back to my Gran’s and we told her we were going to “lie down for a bit.” The moment the door closed behind us we quickly pulled each other’s clothes off and grappled onto the bed. We kissed, deeply and passionately, but this time also our hands explored each other. We were both familiar with our own bodies, so it was just an extension of that, with our fingers stroking and probing the same way we would touch ourselves. My lips wandered down her body, tweaking the rigid nipples in those little white mounds, then wandering down her soft tummy, to end up at her fuzzy pussy. I kissed her nether lips, then gently licked between them.
“Oh God!” she cried when my tongue found her clitoris, and she started to make whimpering noises as I continued to work there.
“Shush! Or my Gran will hear!”
“Sorry,” she whispered.
She bit her finger to try to stop herself making a noise as I practiced the techniques I had just read about, changing the rigidity of my tongue, spelling out the alphabet on her clitoris with my tongue, reaching in with my fingers to find her G-spot. I tried everything, focusing on what made her writhe and fidget the most. It was becoming harder and harder for her to keep quiet as I played her far better than I had ever played a musical instrument. Finally with desperate clenching of her pussy around my fingers, some suppressed moaning, and several hard blows to my head, she came, time and time again.
Regretfully, she was not as good at it as I was! But for the rest of the week we lived a Sapphic dream in my Gran’s home, surrounded by love and regular cups of tea. But it was not to last, Sunday came and she had to return home. We cried so much to say goodbye, and promised to see each other soon, but it was the end of not only her week, but the summer altogether, and I had to return to Canada.
We tried to talk online, but then she got a boyfriend. It made her sad to tell me, but a traditional life was what she really wanted, and she was actually a couple of years older than me, although it did not feel like it that first day on the beach. Shortly afterwards came the pandemic, and she had children. She had the life she wanted.
I became angry for a long while, usually taking it out on any males that were sufficiently ill-advised to cross my path. But in truth I never lost sight of what it meant to love someone, and have that love show me the darkest corners of my being, so that I could see that there was nothing there to be afraid of.
