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Eleanor's Beach

Dedicated to Eleanor
Down in the Virgin Islands there is a beach, it is a small, somewhat remote beach and is accessible by four-wheel drive, and then only when the path isn’t washed out from a recent rain. It is near the famous Megans Beach, and is shown on maps only as Neltjeberg Bay. I know it as Eleanor’s Beach. It is one of the most beautiful beaches in the Caribbean, or at least of the beaches I have seen; and yet few people know of it. Or, perhaps, they are simply afraid to speak of it.

I had been working on the island for many weeks and on the occasional free day, I would explore. I don’t care to visit the local tourist spots, so I seek the secret places that only the locals know about. I had rented a Jeep to allow me unlimited access to wherever my heart would send me, and had long since seen all the popular beaches. But I wanted more.

I had the local map, which is the same as the tourists are handed when they arrive and is useful only to find the best shopping and restaurants; but I also had my portable GPS. As I drove along Crown Mountain Road, admiring the many vistas of the blue-green Caribbean, I happened upon a roadside gas stop. I was able to fill the tank and grab cold beverages to go with the food I had already packed.

I inquired if there were any access to the beach nearby, and although they initially said there wasn’t, I persisted. They finally relented when I pointed out my shiny jeep. There was a path to the ocean that I might try. It was down the road just a bit, right after the graveyard.

Being young and adventurous, I proceeded down the road and soon saw the graveyard; it was obviously very old but still well maintained. Just beyond it was a path, with barely an opening, going down the hill. I paused at the entrance, it was steep, very steep and I didn’t know if it was really safe. But then, I was in a Jeep and I was king of the hill, so let this hill throw whatever it had at me.

I stepped on the gas; well actually, I only lessened my foot on the brake and started down the steep path through the dense growth. It did not head straight down, but went down the side of the mountain at an angle, then reversing to continue down the mountain. It was very steep and much of the road had washed out leaving deep ruts that I would slowly maneuver through. After a half hour of this, the path finally leveled out and I followed it through a low area with only grass and reeds growing, and dense jungle growth ahead.

As I entered the jungle growth the trees swallowed up the light and I wondered if I should return, but I had come much too far to return empty hearted. Finally the path ended and I could drive no further. I shut the Jeep off, and listened to the sounds, I could hear the drone of insects but more important I could hear the sound of surf, just ahead.

I climbed out and made my way through the thick growth and within a few minutes was rewarded by light streaming through the trees ahead. A moment later and the sunlight’s reflection on the waves warmed me and prodded me to rush toward the light. Breaking through the final growth, I was presented with a pristine cove, circular in shape, soft waves lapping at the shoreline with a clear horizon. Nary a person to be seen, neither a boat, vehicle nor any structure to represent civilization. The beach was mine, and mine alone.

Dropping my shorts, I ran to the ocean, my exuberant shouts being lost to the sounds of the ocean. Plunging into the waves I swam several stokes underwater, finally surfacing and spinning upon my back. I looked back at the beach and gazed up and down, still no one came out, it was mine, and mine alone.

A few strokes and I was standing in the surf, the waves sliding by my knees. Striding up to the waters edge, I raised my arms and thanked the gods for such a day, such a perfect moment and for creating such a perfect beach. I also wished I were not quite so alone. Having someone to share it with would be a joy in itself.

Several hours passed, I walked the shoreline, gazed at many a shell, and swam in the ocean as I pleased. My shorts were long forgotten and I really couldn’t care where they were. The afternoon passed by and I was in heaven, yet all to soon, I noted the sun dropping below the edge of the distant hills and realized the day would soon be over.

Heading back to where I had entered the beach, I first looked for the opening and then looked for my shorts. I could find neither. Thinking the opening must be further down, I continued down the beach looking for… well, looking for anything.

At last seeing what I thought to be an opening, I ventured into the brush, but there was no path. Returning back, I followed my footsteps in the sand, and realized my footsteps were the only ones on the beach; I now felt confident I could trace my steps back to the jungle pathway. For the next hour, I walked the beach, following my footprints but as the light slowly disappeared I could not find where my steps had led me to the beach. With the disappearing sun the wind became chilly.

Just as night fell, I saw a fire, a campfire. It seemed to be in the middle of the beach where I had spent too many hours already. As I approached it, I could discern a figure sitting on a log next to it, gazing into the fire. Still without clothing, I did not relish spending the night alone, naked on the beach and any embarrassment I might encounter at the campfire, was surely less than the alternative.

Approaching closer, I realized the figure was shrouded in a blanket and was staring into the fire. Their back was to me and as I approached I called, but there was no response, my voice was lost against the steady sound of the waves lashing the shoreline.

As I was now no less than ten feet from the fire, I again hailed them.

“Hello, excuse me.”

Hearing my voice, the figure suddenly jumped up, and turned to face me. She looked truly startled. Then seeing me, wearing nothing more than a smile, my hands placed discretely over my exposed body, she relaxed. She looked in my eyes, then down my body and started to laugh.

“You… You are… naked! Where are your clothes?”

“I… I’m sorry, I’ve lost them. Could you help me?“ I entreated.

“You lost your clothes?” and she laughed again. “Oh, but I am sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. ‘ere…”

And with that she pulled the blanket from her shoulders and offered it to me. I stepped closer to take the blanket and as I reached for it, I realized she was no longer looking in my eyes, her eyes had dropped lower and she giggled. I quickly took the blanket and wrapped it around my body.

Her eyes returned to my face and she smiled, and then pointed to the fire.

“You must be chilled, come closer to the fire and warm yourself.”

She was right, I was thoroughly chilled, and so I stepped closer and welcomed the warmth of the fire. Sitting down in the sand, I looked back at her.

“Thanks, I had come to the beach earlier, gone swimming and later, I couldn’t find the path to return.” She was wearing a long white dress, her shoulders exposed with only the full curves of her breasts keeping her dress from sliding down; I could see she was also wearing a slip underneath. I thought it was a somewhat unusual for the beach, but given my own situation, I was not about to comment on it.

“Well, then it is a good thing you saw my fire, yes?” she smiled and I could finally see her better in the light. Golden hair glowed in the firelight, matching her light skin and pale blue eyes, almost the color of the early morning sky. Her smile revealed brilliant white teeth, with pale lips framing them.

“Yes, yes it is.” I smiled at her, “I’m Len Skaplie”

She looked puzzled, “You are lidenskabelige? You are passionate?”

“No, my name is Len, but your accent, where are you from?”

She laughed, “Oh, I am from Denmark, your name means passionate in Danish. I am Eleanor.” She shivered, and I realized her dress was damp.

“Eleanor, your freezing as well, come here closer to the fire.”

She smiled and came closer, sitting beside me and we shared the warmth of the fire. For several moments neither of us said anything as we both gazed into the fire. How was it this beautiful girl is here alone?

“Eleanor, how did you get here?”

“I really don’t remember, well, I do remember being on a boat and there was a storm; but now I just can’t seem to remember where the boat is. I was with my parents, we were moving here but…”

“Your dress is still damp, did your boat sink?

“I… I don’t remember. It is so very strange. Yes, I know I must sound loony, but I… I really can’t remember.”

“Well,” I gazed at her, “at least we have each others company and this warm fire to keep warm. I’m sure we can sort it out tomorrow.”

She shivered again, and I felt her lean against my shoulder.

“Eleanor, you are still shivering.” I pulled the blanket from my shoulder and wrapped it over her as well. “We can share the blanket.”

“Yes, that is better.” I felt the smooth flesh of her shoulder against mine, and we huddled under the blanket and gazed in the fires hypnotic flames.

She told me of life in Denmark, living on a farm and the simple pleasure of seeing a calf born and growing rye and oats. I told her of my life growing up in the west on a small ranch, and the joy I still found in horses. We did seem to have many-shared interest; I found her stories entertaining and we shared many a laugh at the funny things that happen in a life surrounded by farm animals.

We shared the warmth of the fire and the warmth of our bodies being close together. As the fire burned down I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to me. She snuggled into the warmth of my chest.

I told her a joke about a man walking into his bedroom carrying a sheep, announcing that this was the pig he was forced to have sex with. The wife pointed out it was a sheep and not a pig, at which point the husband said he wasn’t talking to her, he was talking to his sheep.

She found it extremely funny and slapped my leg, after which her hand remained on my naked thigh. She surely felt me tense up for a moment from the sexual tension between us, but her hand remained and I put my hand over hers and softly squeezed it.

She started to say something about a similar story and as she looked up into my face, I kissed her. It was a soft yet lingering kiss, and as she did not resist, I pulled her shoulder toward me more and kissed her deeper. She responded by taking her free arm and pulling my face deeper into hers.

Her lips remained together as I kissed her, and I sought to slide my tongue into her mouth. She resisted as though surprised, and then slowly opened her mouth. She tasted of womanhood, neither fruit nor mint as so many girls taste. Her tongue touched mine and she returned my passion with a passion even stronger.

My hand sought her neck, and then feeling her soft skin, traced a line down her chest. I felt her heart race as I put my hand on her breast and felt her nipple; she had nothing on underneath. I massaged her nipple and was rewarded with her soft moan, as it became a hard pebble between my thumb and forefinger.

I eased her top down and was at last able to feel the flesh of her taut breast. Breaking the kiss I leaned into her breast and felt her pull my head into her. My lips found her nipple and as I kissed it she moaned. I pulled her hardened nipple between my lips and slowly opening my mouth, took her areola deep into my mouth, my tongue feverishly sweeping across her nipple.

I eased her down and as I did, her hand found my now stiff cock. At first she only held it, then she pulled it somewhat; my moan brought a giggle to her lips. She pulled again, and again I moaned. My cock released several drops of moisture, and finding it, she ran her thumb over it, spreading it over the head of my cock.

Pulling her top down further, I exposed her smooth belly and my hands marveled at her flawless smooth skin. I was on my knees now and releasing her nipple from my mouth I eased her dress down over her knees, along with her cotton panties.

I gazed at her unshorn beauty; a small amount of blond curls adorned her pussy but did not hinder my view of her hooded clit and her slit below. My mouth sought her pussy and I kissed each side of her slit with a delicate touch, each kiss coming closer to her pussy.

Finally, I kissed her hood and eased my tongue into its softness, feeling her hood reveal the hard nub of her clitoris. As I kissed it her hands pulled me tightly and she finally spoke. “Oh, oh my. åh , det føles vidunderligt , it’s wonderful!”

I drew her clit into my mouth and she spread her legs wide beckoning me to explore her further. Both her hands were now on my head, her fingers running through my hair. I looked up into Eleanor’s expression and felt she must be and angel, so beautiful she looked. She was biting her lip and watching me with wild abandon.

I returned my efforts to satisfying her, my tongue lashed up and down her pussy, her warm juices tasting of sweet nectar. I slowly inserted a finger, she was very tight but I found her small G-spot. I pressed it against her pelvic bone and was rewarded with an audible squeal. She was nearing climax and I again drew her clitoris into my mouth, pressing even harder against her G-spot at the same time.

“Len, Len, lidenskabelige, I feel something, no, don’t stop I… I … Ahhhhh.” I felt her climax, her stomach muscles clenching in waves of lust. Still I kept teasing her clitoris, until at last she pulled me tight. “Stop, oh my, please stop, I can’t take anymore….”

I paused and rose up to her lips, kissing her even as she sought to regain her breath. She grabbed my neck and pulled me close, rolled over to put her on top of me. She now straddled me, and pushing against my chest, straightened up.

She smiled at me and then I felt her hand on my stiff cock. It was throbbing now, excited from tasting her delicious body and bringing her to climax. She knelt down and looked at my cock, stroking it as though discovering a new toy. As she stroked it a drop of my pre-cum escaped from the head. She paused, and studied it, then knelt closer and licked it.

“Hmm, rather tasty.” Eleanor smiled as she then looked at me. “Can I have some more?” She knelt down again and pulled my cock several more stokes. Soon another drop appeared. She lowed her mouth to it and took another small lick, then drew my head into her lips. She sucked it; she really sucked it, like a calf nursing a cow’s teat, milking me of my pre-cum. She continued to stroke me; all the while maintaining this delicious sucking on my head.

Finally satisfied with the moans I was unable to contain, she ventured further down my cock, sliding it deeper into her mouth. I felt her run her tongue along my cock as it slid slowly into her mouth. It found the back of her mouth and unable to go further, she pulled me back out. She had taken my balls in one hand and used them to guide her mouth down onto my cock again. She continued to savor my cock and did not squeeze my balls but only pulled them toward her lips, her warm hand cupping my balls all the way.

I could take no more, and pulled her up to me. Kissing her deeply, I rolled over upon her, crushing her breast with my chest and feeling my cock against her moist chamber of love.

Pushing my cock against her pussy, she yielded to my pressure, my cock feeling her lips spread as it entered the hot moist cavern. Eleanor wrapped her legs around me and invited me to push. I eased my cock in further, when I felt resistance.

“Eleanor, are you a virgin?” looking into her eyes I could see only the glow of the fire, flicking flames of red, blue and yellow. It must have startled me, as I froze.

She smiled strangely, and then without another word, rolled back to be on top of me, again straddling me, my cock still barely in her pussy. She looked down into my eyes, her eyes still burning with the colors of the fire, and eased her body off my cock. I was too stunned to move. A moment later, she drove her pelvis down, impaling herself on my cock, all the way down, her pelvis slamming into my pelvis.

Eleanor screamed.

Her scream was a long drawn out scream, like a final scream of death, or the scream of birth, which, I did not know. It terrified me, and then silence; I heard only the sound of the waves. She remained motionless, my cock fully impaled into her. Her eyes looked at me and the fire still burned in her eyes.

I was still frozen, held captive by the moment, in awe, not knowing what I was witnessing. And so we remained, perhaps ten seconds passed; surely the longest seconds of my life. Then her eyes closed, and she bowed her head.

Slowly she rose off my cock, finally bringing my still throbbing head to her pussy lips. Then she slammed it down again. Her eyes still closed, she again rose, and again drove herself down. She increased the tempo, fucking me like a rag doll, driving down so hard I was afraid she would hurt herself, or hurt me.

But despite the fear, it did feel good. It felt wonderful, each stoke perfect, with a lust unmatched by any living creature. Her pussy felt on fire as well, the heat from it running into my body like hot oil.

I rarely am able to climax with a woman on top of me, but I soon felt familiar pressure building in my balls. She was pushing me to climax and I felt she needed to feel my seed inside her to complete her own climax.

“Ja… Ja… Ja,” she started repeating, her eyes still closed, her head bowed toward my chest, “Ja… Ja… Ja”.

With each stoke, she would repeat the word as my cock fully impaled itself in her. She drove down harder each stroke and each time her voice became louder, “Ja… Ja… Ja.”.

I finally could take no more, the pressure was too intense, and I could not hold my seed.

“Ahhgg….” I screamed as my seed shot out of my cock, into Eleanor. Not content with only being impaled on me, she drove herself down with a final mad stroke and wrapped her legs around me pulling me into her deeper still.

“Jaaa……,” she wailed matching my own crescendo. I could feel her muscles contracting, as though sucking my seed into her. We remained as that, I was still on my back, she was still mounted on me, impaled on me; and although neither of us moved, her pussy continued to draw me in.


I must have passed out. The next moment, I found myself waking on the beach, the fire long since burned out, and my shorts now under my head. But Eleanor was gone.

I looked up and down the beach but did not see anyone. I saw my footprints leading toward the burnt out fire, but no other prints were to be seen. What had happened to Eleanor? Where were her footprints?

I followed my footprints down the beach. Soon I came to a spot that my prints came from the jungle growth. As I followed them to the jungle, I found the path I had taken the previous day. I followed the path and within a minutes time had found my Jeep.

The keys were still in the ignition and I climbed in, and as I reached over to start the engine I happened to look in the rear view mirror. Buried in the jungle growth were three tombstones.

Surprised at seeing gravestones on a beach, I climbed out and walked over to them. I pulled the branches away and read the first one.

Lars Abildgaard

Husband and Father

1805 – 1852

Shipwrecked in a Storm

And the second one

Margrethe Abildgaard

Wife and Mother

1810 – 1852

Shipwrecked in a Storm

And the last one

Eleanor Abildgaard

1836 – 1852

Shipwrecked in a Storm

The shock swept over me slowly like the spread of scotch on an empty belly. I was stunned, but still I could not believe it. Was this my Eleanor?

This happened several years ago, I have returned to the beach since that morning. And each time I return, I think I might stay the night.

But, I don’t…
But I do call it Eleanor’s Beach.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright 2011 All rights reserved. May not reproduce without the author's permission

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