It was the summer of 2008, the week of the 4th of July, Independence Day in the United States. I had been talked into going on vacation with a couple of friends on a little island off the coast of Carolina. The island is often secluded even during the tourist season, making it easy to spend an entire day at the beach without seeing anyone else, which was precisely why we went. My friends, Daniel and Amy, a married couple, always preferred the laid-back, relaxing atmosphere of a deserted beach – an atmosphere perfect for day drinking.
Early in the week, a few days before the 4th, Daniel and I had dug a vast, deep hole in the sand, large enough for four people to sit in, and so deep the walls were over our heads when we sat down. It was a place where we could escape the wind if it was bad, and conveniently it made smoking a lot easier. The week was going nicely. We were camping, so days and nights were spent at the beach, mostly drinking.
On the morning of the 4th, Amy’s sister, Kylie, and her family came to spend a couple of days with us. Kylie was married and had two kids; the whole group showed up as I was getting out of my morning shower. I had no idea they were coming until they showed up, not that I cared, as long as the kids didn’t interfere with my drinking. Hell, watching Kylie at the beach in a bikini all day for a couple of days sounded wonderful. We all went to breakfast and caught up a little before going to the beach, much like every other morning. After we set up the coolers, chairs, and umbrellas, everyone just went about doing their own thing.
It was about noon when Daniel and I were smoking a joint in the hole. Amy came over and asked to speak to him. Daniel was gone for a few minutes. When he returned, he told me that Amy was taking the kids back to the campground for a nap so Kylie could have some free time. I looked down the beach and saw Kylie wandering in the surf, looking for shells. Her husband was lying on a beach towel, possibly asleep. Daniel and I finished the joint, and we each lit a cigarette. Before we could finish, Kylie’s husband came over to the hole and asked Daniel if he could give him a ride to the village to pick up something. I wasn’t really paying attention. They asked if I’d like to ride along, and I declined, preferring to sit alone watching the breakers and, of course, Kylie.
I figured I’d have about an hour before anyone bothered me, so I decided to drink a cold beer and smoke another joint. When I left the hole to go to the cooler, I noticed Kylie was meandering back. I sat back in the hole, opened my beer, took a swallow, and began rolling a joint. I was excited about being alone, listening to the tide, and enjoying a beer while getting high. Camping with a couple on a small island for a week didn’t leave much alone time, I’m sure they felt the same way. I finished rolling the joint and was about to light it when Kylie sat beside me on the sand bench of the hole. She sat so close her hip brushed mine, I wasn’t expecting her to join me, and she startled me a little.
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
“Amy took the kids back to the campground to take a nap, and Daniel took, uh… your husband into the village for something,” I told her, lighting the joint.
Kylie laughed, “My husband?” she asked, “You don’t even know his name, do you?”
I had known Kylie for several years now, and in all of that time, I had only met her husband once or twice. I really didn’t know his name or the names of her kids. Until now, I didn’t care, we weren’t especially close, but for some reason, I felt like an ass because I didn’t know. “I’m high, I just forgot,” I told her, not knowing what else to say.
“Yeah, I’m sure. How long have they been gone?” she asked.
I blew out a cloud of smoke, “Uh, I guess Amy left about fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago, and Daniel just got out of sight right before you sat down. They’re probably at the car by now,” I told her.
So, we’ve got a while before anyone comes back,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“I guess. You want a hit?” I asked, holding the joint out for her.
“You know I don’t smoke,” she said, giggling, as she took the joint from me.
Kylie took a long pull on the joint and started coughing. “Are you gonna take it back?” she asked when she finally stopped coughing.
I took the joint from Kylie; I hadn’t been paying attention because I was trying not to look at her too much. Kylie was wearing a rather revealing bikini, and she had a stunning body, especially for a woman with two kids. I’d always had a thing for her. Basically, I just wanted to fuck her from the moment I met her. I knew there was this sexual tension between us, and I assumed she felt it too, as well as everyone around us. “Thanks,” I said before hitting the joint again.
Kylie noticed I wasn’t looking at her. “Are you trying not to look at me?” she asked, laughing a little.
“I, uh… yeah, I guess….” I replied.
She started laughing harder before taking the joint from me just after I hit it again. I wasn’t expecting that either. I looked over at her as she hit the joint and was quickly distracted by her tits. Kylie had terrific breasts, and they were good-sized C-cups, round and firm. They couldn’t have looked better than they did now in her bikini top that barely held them unless, of course, they were exposed. She handed the joint back and exhaled. “Why don’t you want to look at me? Did I do something?” she asked.
“No. It’s nothing,” I replied quickly before taking another pull on the joint.
Kylie punched me in the arm. “Don’t do that, asshole! I’m not one of your little bitches you can just blow off by saying anything,” she said.
I couldn’t finish my pull on the joint. I busted out laughing, which caused me to cough. When I caught my breath, I looked over at Kylie, “Honestly?” I asked.
“You wanna get hit again? Yeah, honestly,” she replied.
“In that case, weed makes me horny,” I told her, putting the joint back to my lips.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“Well, yeah,” I said, after blowing out my smoke and handing the joint back to her.
“No, I’m good,” she said, pushing my hand away. Stacy got a quizzical look on her face. “You know,” she said, pausing for effect. “I’ve seen you smoke a lot of weed over the years. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you horny. So, does the pot make you horny, or do I?”
“If you’ve never seen me horny, then I guess neither,” I replied, laughing.
“You know what I mean.”
“Well, I guess it’s a combination of both. Weed does make me horny, but….” I trailed off, trying to stop the conversation.
I put the joint out to save the rest for later and grabbed my beer. “But?” Kylie asked before I could take a sip.
I put the bottle to my lips and started drinking, trying to buy time. Kylie punched me in the arm again, harder this time, “Quit stalling. But what?” she asked.
After I swallowed, I had to laugh. “Ok, ok…” I said, trying to stop laughing, “it’s like this. Weed doesn’t make me horny per se, but smoking weed in situations like this makes me horny when I probably wouldn’t be if I weren’t smoking,” I told her.
“And what kind of situation is this?” she asked.
“Being alone and so close to you, you’re hot, and neither of us is wearing much. Being high and looking at your body right now, with no one else around, is making me kinda horny,” I said, looking away from her again.
“So, basically, if we weren’t alone, you wouldn’t be horny because if someone else were here, there’d be no chance of us having sex,” she said.
“Yeah, I guess that sounds about right. I mean, I know it’s crazy since we’d never have sex anyway, and it’s just….” I said.
Kylie put her hand on my crotch, feeling my semi-erect cock through my board shorts. “You’re not very hard,” she said.
“I’m trying to hold back. You’re not helping very much,” I told her.
“How long has it been since you last had sex?” she asked.
“About three weeks. What about you?” I asked, looking over at her.
Kylie had pulled the waistband of her bikini bottoms out and was looking down at her pussy. “It’s been a while for me, too,” she said as she looked back at me.
I was staring down at her bald pussy. It looked better than I could have imagined. “You like it? Will that help you get harder?” she asked.
“I… uh…” I stuttered; I didn’t know what to say, but yeah, I could definitely feel the blood rushing to my crotch.