Summer Lightning

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One — Unemployed

When I lost my job soon after my twenty-first birthday, I thought the end of the world had come. I had worked in the bustling, busy café in town since I was sixteen, firstly at weekends, then during school holidays. When I left school I turned down the opportunity to go to college and went full time – much to my folks’ disgust.

We lived in Rakes Point, a small town on the New England coast and in summer it was always busy with tourists. Being near the beach, the café was a thriving concern and for me no small part of the attraction of working there was the constant influx of surfers and sailors from the nearby marina.

At first, I was merely content to look and admire. Wearing braces on my teeth and thick makeup to cover a bad case of mid-teenage acne meant that looks of admiration were not reciprocated for poor little Summer for quite a while. But soon after I was eighteen, things began to look up.

The braces came off, the zits miraculously disappeared as quickly as they came and with my self-esteem restored, I began to eat less of the cakes and pies that I served on a daily basis and had become something of a comfort for me. It never seemed to occur to me that my consumption of sugary things may have been a contributory factor to my complexion being less than perfect.

Whatever, I lost the weight I had gained through comfort eating and began to realise that my appraising glances were being returned rather more frequently. In relation to some of my friends I was a late starter at eighteen, but once the starting gun fired, there was no stopping me. Summer Olson had lost her ‘V’ at last and those surfers didn’t stand a chance.

I was lucky that my transformation coincided with the peak of the tourist season, so making up for lost time was not a problem. Very soon, I had blossomed into a free-wheeling, sexual adventurer and my decision not to go to college was utterly vindicated — in my eyes at least.

Gracie, the lady that owned and ran the café, was a long-time family friend. One day when I was nineteen, she took me aside and asked if I would take on the job of assistant manager. I was thrilled to be promoted and worked even harder than before. A few months later I was even more excited when she said she would be looking to retire in three or four years and if I could save enough money in the meantime, she would like nothing more than for me to take over the business. She knew it would be safe in my stewardship having seen the way I had embraced my new role.

I saved hard, worked extra hours and my dream was well on track. Then she took ill and her retirement was brought forward. I didn’t have enough money to buy her out and despite owning a holiday apartment along the coast that we barely used, my pig-headed folks refused to sell it to fund me, still smarting from my refusal to go to college. They had always seen me as a lawyer or a doctor, not a ‘girl who served tourists coffee’.

Great, thanks for the support, Mom and Dad.

Unfortunately, Gracie needed a quick sale to pay for her treatment and was as desolate as I was when she sold to a company that owned a chain of cafés along the coast. It was hard for me, but I understood and felt for Gracie. At least I still had a job.

Well, I did for three months anyway.

As the holiday season loomed again, one by one, the new owners replaced the entire staff with their own people. I was last to go. The fact that the townsfolk boycotted the place wasn’t an issue to them. The tourists didn’t care if they were served by locals or not, so it still thrived.

I got a decent severance, but it didn’t make up for my dream being shattered. There was nothing else I was good at and my folks almost took delight in reminding me that I should have gone to college and by now I would probably be working in a ‘proper job’.

I moped about for a few weeks, seeking solace in the occasional holidaymaker looking for a no-strings lay, but more and more I began to feel I needed a change. Luckily for me, my mother was the one to provide that change for me. Sick of seeing me rise at eleven or later and leave an almost visible trail of misery around the house, she did what she did with me every few months – she flew right off the handle.

“Summer, why don’t you just buck your ideas up, get yourself a job and stop moping about like a spoiled little brat. So your dream has been shattered. Boo-hoo. We all have to live with that kind of thing. Life is not a bowl of cherries. Suck it up and be a big girl. If you can’t be assed to get a proper job, then go on vacation or something. Just take your misery out of our house and stop being an emotional black-hole. You’re just sucking the life out of your Dad and I.”

There it was again — the jibe about a ‘proper job’. I knew my mother well enough not to argue. If I did, she just upped the volume to ear-shattering levels until any meaningful response was drowned out. My friend Maddie once said she reminded her of Miss Piggy in that respect bahis siteleri and whenever she went into one of her moods, I always imagined poor little Kermit cowering in a corner at her tongue-lashing.

So instead of shouting back, I uttered the words that would completely change my life.

“Ok, I’ll get out of your hair, Mom. Give me the keys to the condo and I’ll drive up there for the summer and leave you in peace.”

I never expected her to take me up on my suggestion, but to my utter surprise, she did.

I never expected my suggestion would lead to me getting a new job either.

It is a great job, but my folks would never call it ‘a proper job.’

But I don’t really care. All that matters to me is that I just fucking well love what I do now, and the thing is, I have finally found something that I really am pretty good at.

Two — Home Alone

The condo was a two hour drive away up the coast and I arrived shortly after midday. I unpacked what little I had brought with me and walked the short distance into the town of Coldwater Bay and bought myself a fast-food burger. I vowed it would be the one and only of my stay. I was a decent cook and I could fend for myself, but right at that moment, time was of the essence. On the way back, I availed myself of as much beer as I could carry and left the rest for another day. I had brought a few essentials with me anyway, so I wouldn’t starve.

The town was a similar size to Rakes Point, built around a pretty harbor area where the Coldwater River joined the sea. The condo was half a mile or so back along the river. Nice and secluded, it was one of a matching pair, both with their own riverside terrace. I was sure my mom had said something about the old couple that lived next door both having passed within a short time of each other recently. Hopefully anything naughty I got up to would go unseen and unheard by prying ears and eyes.

My first job was to get the place fit to live in. It had been closed up for a long while and it smelled musty. As I said, we seldom used it. At first the plan was to let it out, but after a couple of problem hirers, my folks gave up on that idea. Being in such a similar town to our own, it was not such an attraction for family visits, which was why I was so devastated when they wouldn’t use the sale of it to help finance me buying the café. They now just saw it as an investment. Prices in the area were soaring and they knew if they held out for a couple more years, they would make a handsome profit on the place.

I couldn’t believe how much dust had gathered and thought about getting a professional cleaning firm in. However, that would eat into my limited budget which was earmarked for much more exciting things like beer, coffee and — so I hoped — lots of sexual lubricant.

That final thought made me recall that cleaning was going to be my second job. I had plans to get up to something naughty, but I needed a backup. It was a relief when I threw the main switch in the den and the power came on. It was even more of a relief when the wi-fi router booted up and the green light stayed on. At least I was able to stay in contact with the hive collective during my isolation.

Within fifteen minutes of arrival, I was sat on a sofa still covered by a dust sheet and had spent the part of my budget that I had allocated to ‘personal gratification.’

I already possessed a small but powerful vibrator and it would soon be joined by a Hitachi, a G-Spot stimulator, and just for good measure I had thrown in a butt-plug. A few other things had caught my eye but maybe they would come down the line. After all, I had at least two months in my new place to look forward to and needed to be careful with my finances.

Making sure my faithful toy was charged for later, I set about the not inconsiderable task of cleaning the place. It took me well into the early evening and any thoughts I had of going back into town for a night on the tiles were firmly put to bed.

I was also firmly put to bed, and once there, it soon had a small pile of beer bottles next to it and my vibe was already in danger of running out. It was nice to be able to make a noise. The condo was pretty well soundproofed and I had definitely not seen anyone next door, so for the first time in my life I could really let rip. I had a little fun with the neck of a beer bottle up the back way while my vibe worked its magic and couldn’t wait to try out my new toys when they arrived. They were on next-day-delivery, so I wouldn’t have long to wait.

My parcel arrived when I was making my first coffee the next morning. Ok, it was almost midday, but I had an excuse — it had been a long hard day of travel and cleaning and I needed my sleep. It was all I could do not to dive back upstairs and spend the rest of the day trying everything out. I stayed good and decided to earn my evening entertainment by going for a run once I had stocked the fridge with something other than beer. Ever since I lost my weight, canlı bahis siteleri I have been a bit of a fitness freak and I soon realised that the fitter I was, the better the sex was.

I did a few miles along the Coldwater River trail and up the coast path and it was so good to be away from home and on my own. As an only child I was used to my own company and if I didn’t meet up with anyone to spend my nights with, I had plenty to keep me occupied.

Back home, I didn’t bother to shower. I was about to work up another sweat, so it could wait until morning. In the end I did need one before retiring, but only because in my thrashing and writhing on the bed with my Hitachi on overdrive and my cute little asshole plugged, I ended up with my only bottle of lube all over me as I knocked it off the nightstand and covered myself in sticky gloop. I only hoped I would be covered in another kind of sticky gloop before long.

The problem with showering before sleep is that my hair is long and it takes an age to dry. At least I had something to while away the time with.

I rose late again the next morning, but there was a little more of it left this time. My Dad once said that the only thing I hated more than going to bed was getting up in the morning. Now I was old enough to ‘amuse’ myself, I loved going to bed, but I still hated getting up. I went into town for a coffee. As I hadn’t been there in years, and my interests had changed a little in that time, I decided to scope it out first.

The last time I was there in my mid-teens, I was into the craft shops, the burger and ice-cream parlors. Now I was more into the bars and restaurants and there was a new brewpub on the harbor that was a sister pub to one back in Rakes Point. That was definitely on my list for a visit, as I was quite a devotee of good beer. There was also a vape shop and I was tempted by it. I had never smoked, a one-off hit on a joint apart, and I hated that and vowed never again. But a couple of my friends vaped and for some reason it just looked so cool and elegant. Again, maybe sometime down the line, but not just yet.

I was also tempted by a beer but thought better of it. Drinking in the early afternoon was a recipe for disaster, so I went for a coffee in a place that soon had me pining for my old job. It was just like the old place used to be, before the new owners took it on. Family run, friendly and the coffee was great. As with beer, I had become a bit of a coffee snob and I knew I would be a frequent visitor. There was a lovely decked area overlooking the harbor and I sat for a very pleasant half-hour catching up with stuff on my phone, keeping more than half an eye open for any likely candidates for some live action as opposed to my admittedly splendid plastic pals.

Of course, I returned home disappointed. I took a beer out onto the balcony that overlooked the river and planned my evening. Not that there was much to plan. Choose a video, choose a toy, choose a beer. Rinse and repeat until sated. Or in my case, rinse and repeat until I had totally overdone it.

As I leaned on the rail, a car pulled up at the condo next door. So much for my new-found freedom to vocalise. The car was hidden from view by the carport roof so I had no idea who my new neighbors were. No doubt I would find out in due course. I doubted it would be an athletic guy on his own but having a vivid imagination, fantasised about it being two athletic guys looking for fun as I wiped away the frustrations of another long, hard day with my toys.

I had never had sex with more than one guy at a time, but it was on my bucket list. The nearest I had come to it so far was two in one day – one just after midnight and the other later that evening. Maybe soon I would be able to boast of being double-teamed to Maddie and Cassie.

Once I had let my imagination run riot, I stepped out onto the balcony again to take in a little cool air before settling down for the night. There was movement on the terrace next door, but it was cloudy, so there was no moonlight to illuminate the scene. I was still none the wiser as to who had moved in. I was just about to go back inside when I caught a familiar whiff of something — sweet and quite pleasant. Whoever was down there was vaping. I stayed a moment longer and saw a silvery plume rise up, followed again by that sweet smell. It was nice. Maybe I would head to the vape shop after all.

Well why not. I had planned on being a naughty girl — I may as well go the whole hog.

Three — A New Neighbor

The next day, I was back in my new favorite coffee spot, but this time at a little more civilised hour. The town clock struck ten as I ordered and I felt a little pride in myself that I was getting up earlier each day and I had already been for a run. Not a great achievement, but it was at least a start.

I sat, alternately watching the world go by and catching up with friends back home. Maddie had a new boyfriend and Cassie insisted on giving a graphic account canlı bahis of her latest blowjob so there was plenty to keep me occupied — and jealous.

As I typed a sarcastic response to Cassie’s complaint about messed-up hair, a tall, slim girl sat down at the table next to mine. I glanced up and she gave me a little smile. I responded with one of my own and got back to my socialising.

The waitress came to take her order and I stole another look at her while she was busy. She was one of the most striking women I had seen in a long time. A little older than me, she was pencil slim with tanned skin and the most amazing hair. It was in cornrows on her scalp, almost pure white, then fell in long beaded braids down her back. There was a beautiful tattoo on her bare left shoulder — what appeared to be a bird of some sort – and she sported a nose stud. The smile she gave the waitress lit up even a morning as lovely as the one we were having.

Luckily my stare was hidden behind my sunglasses. I had never done it with another girl, but I had often wondered what it would be like. Whoever she was, she certainly had an effect on me. I just wished I could see her eyes. As with mine, hers were hidden behind small, round shades. Her white brocade top contrasted with her tan and she crossed long legs that were clad in shiny wet-look fabric.

I told myself to calm down, stop staring and get back to my phone. Maybe it had been a bit too long without sex for me. I resolutely kept my head down and tried to ignore her. The waitress returned with her order — a long, iced coffee and a double chocolate muffin. I was trying to be good, but I suddenly fancied a muffin as well. Not having anywhere else to be and being a lady of leisure, I ordered another coffee and treated myself to one just for the hell of it.

And maybe I just wanted to look at her for a little longer.

My second order had just arrived when I caught a familiar smell once more. I looked up and she held a vape pen to her lips. A tiny trickle of vapor escaped as she pursed them, now engrossed in her own phone. For a moment, I wondered if it was my new neighbor, but it was a different aroma to the one I had smelled the previous night. A little more earthy but still pleasant. Another little puff followed and I took a drink of coffee to distract me and began to make inroads into my muffin.

As I did, she laughed at something on her phone as she took a bigger hit on her vape pen. The result was a large cloud that plumed up and caught by the light breeze, drifted over my table. She turned in shock, a hand to her mouth, the other with her vape pen shooing away the cloud.

Her face contorted in a mock grimace. “Oops, my bad. So sorry, I didn’t mean to engulf you. How rude of me!”

She had a lovely, soft voice — almost velvety and I detected a slight Southern twang. “No don’t apologise. It’s not a problem. Quite a nice smell actually.”

She inclined her head. “Thank you. Not everyone agrees, but it’s better than the alternative.” With that, she tucked the pen into her shoulder bag. “I’ll maybe put that to one side till I get home!”

“Please don’t on my account.”

“No, it’s for the best — the next person may not be as understanding as you. Anyways, I’m just about done here.” She slipped some bills under her saucer and stood. She put a slim hand on my shoulder. “Sorry again!”

I watched her retreating back, braids swinging, beads clicking together. When she reached a crosswalk, she stopped and turned back towards the café, her sunglasses now in her hand. I lowered my head, pretending to be engrossed in my phone, but my eyes followed her.

If I had begun to garner some appraising looks from guys back in Rakes Point, I had no words to describe the look she then gave me. Had they been weaponised, the way her green eyes lasered across the intervening distance, I would have been reduced to a pile of ash. As it was, I was a puddle of mush. No-one had ever looked at me like that in my life before and it shook me to the core. I could still feel the warmth of her hand on my shoulder and I was shocked to realise I wanted more than just a touch there.

I even forgot my intended visit to the vape shop and headed home a little discomfited.

That night, I lay awake long after I had sated myself with my toys. What would I have done if she had come back and asked me to go for a drink with her? I would never describe myself as bi-curious, but as I said, I had wondered on occasions what it would be like. Hell, I did enough night surfing to see plenty of female bodies doing things to each other as well as guys and it hardly repulsed me. Some of it was quite beautiful actually and everything seemed so gentle as opposed to the manic thrusting I was used to.

I wondered if she had any more tattoos or piercings. I wanted some myself and maybe it was the right time to think about them, though again, Summer’s Summer Budget didn’t exactly have a ‘Personal Adornment’ section.

I kept seeing the vapor escape her lips, hearing her laugh, her apology, the hand on my shoulder. That smouldering look from the crosswalk. Would I see her again? Was she a day visitor or a local? And more pertinently – would I have gone with her if she had asked me?

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