On the Sunday of Labor Day weekend, Lenore and I went out by bus to Pelham Bay Park and Orchard Beach. We weren’t going to swim that day, just walk around. We had gotten off the bus as it entered the park so we could do just that.
It was a ghastly hot day, and the entire scene out there was chaotic. Cars kept pouring into the area and, with the parking lots filled, people parked all over the grassy lawns. One group of guys opened up a hydrant and sprayed water on passing buses.
Lenore had a denim skirt and a red and white halter top, but she kept a shirt on top of the latter. It was only open enough for me to get a glimpse of the garment I really wanted to see. I knew she was a bit reluctant to show herself off in public. She had sneakers on, not sandals, so she could do the necessary walking.
We were sitting to the side of a road leading to the beach. We both seemed a bit clueless about why we were even out there, but we couldn’t think of any other place to go. Aunt Julia was at the apartment, so we couldn’t relax in the air-conditioning and have some chilled wine or beer. Why hadn’t that Julia lady gotten herself invited to someone’s beach house?
We hadn’t brought anything as a beverage, and we’d have to go a half-mile to the bathhouse to buy anything. In desperation, we had cooled ourselves a bit from a dripping hydrant and cupped our hands to drink its water.
I brought up the halter-top issue. “Why are you wearing it and yet you’ve covered it with a shirt?”
“I thought there might be some place here where I could, you know, be alone a bit and just enjoy a little sun on my skin.” She looked around. “But there is no such place here. I admit I don’t want to be a public tease. I don’t want to be flaunting myself so that other guys can look but not touch. It may seem weird to think this, but it’s not really fair to them.”
“But Lenore, that’s the whole point of it.” I loved looking at her tan lines. The creamy complexion of her skin showed them beautifully.
“Then some other girl can do it.”
“Well, I know it’s there even if no one else does.” I put my arm around her and pulled her closer. “At least show it for my sake.”
She seemed reluctant, “Okay, I’ll think about it.”
A couple of minutes later, I had an inspiration, “Hey, I think we can pull off a screw right here in the park.”
“Wow, when did you become so blunt? And there must be a half-million people here. Where do you propose to go?”
“There’s an abandoned railroad station over there by the Amtrak line.” I added, “It mostly doesn’t have a roof.”
“Sounds lovely; so romantic.”
“Let’s have a look at least.”
Over there we found the remains of a brick building. I said, “Welcome to City Island Road station, I think that’s what it was called.” At that moment a northbound Amtrak train came blasting through. One of the rooms of this building, perhaps the old waiting room, had long since lost its roof. The former floor was overgrown with weeds and other plants. The remaining parts of the station had been sealed off.
Lenore looked at the place with skepticism. “All right, there’s only one way this could work. We would have to be standing up, with my skirt raised, and you could take me from behind.” She didn’t sound very enthusiastic. In fact, it was the first time I had ever heard her reluctance about some sexual act.
I said, “What’s the matter? You don’t like the idea of if a dirty little quickie? You can even brace yourself against that wall.”
“I’m not that keen on it, especially since any mook could just walk in here. But if you really want it, I’ll do it.”
“I could just poke my cock through the zipper.”
“That seems more like a rape than anything else. No, drop your pants, at least a little bit. Come on, let’s get to it.” I had never seen her so indifferent, if that is the word, about sex. “Let’s not take all day with this. Come over here; I’ll press against you.”
She turned and lifted her skirt. Then she took her panties off and dropped them on the ground. As I had suggested, she leaned over and braced herself against a wall. Her behind was pushed up and out.
I went over to her and put my hand between her legs. Despite my fondling of her, she felt damp at best. Usually, she was dripping wet by the time I entered her. It seemed best to just push myself against her as she had instructed. She did a credible job of gyrating her buttocks against my crotch. In a short while, her next statement was again abrupt, “As I said, do it already.” I guided myself into her.
During this coupling, she hardly made a sound. Her usual response was to moan a lot during sex and describe her pleasure to me, but not this time.
It was indeed dismaying to imagine someone walking in there and seeing my thrusting buttocks, and then getting a glimpse of Lenore’s ample round hindquarters. With my paranoia, I just wanted to come as quickly as possible, so I held her hips and banged away at her. I did groan with each stroke, but it was notable that she didn’t say anything.
My actual climax felt better than I had expected, although the whole event had a perfunctory feel to it. When I pulled out, she turned around to look at me and she was frowning. When I caught my breath and could speak, I said, “Ah, you didn’t come yourself.”