Pier Lights Read Free

and then a
swim in the ocean. Or vice versa. And then tonight, she would walk
back to the pier and see if Mr. Big Sword was out again.
     
    Amazed she found an apartment within walking
distance of the beach elegant enough for her needs, furnished, and
barely within her budget, Caroline donned a tan bikini, wrapped a
sarong over it, grabbed a towel, and headed back to the beach. Dusk
approached. Her earlier swim was cut short by her growling stomach.
Feeling as accomplished as she did already, she figured a second
swim would add to that. It was good exercise. And it was easy on
her feet. Her right foot ached although she hadn’t walked as much
as she used to walk. Walking was her thing. She’d had a reputation
for it when she was in school. So many rides offered and none
accepted. She wanted to walk. They thought she was too stuck-up to
accept a ride when she didn’t have a car of her own. She didn’t
have need of a car back when she lived where everything was walking
distance from the house. She liked to walk. They could think what
they wanted.
    With a shake of the head to rid herself of
the thoughts, Caroline crossed the street with a slow jog and sank
into the sight of the water, the beautiful blue green gray expanse
stretching to the sky, held back softly by the gray white brown
sand. There were the irksome couples hand-in-hand again but she
looked past them. It was quieter without the dance on the pier, a
special occasion locals and tourists looked forward to and Caroline
both enjoyed and detested. The music she loved. The people she
didn’t.
    Caroline dropped her sarong and her towel
near one of the wooden sentries and heal-toed into the water. She
walked in up to her knees, waited to let her body get used to the
cold, then up to her thighs, then bent and lunged in with an easy
breast stroke. She swam under the pier, in between the large poles,
her favorite place on the beach, even as a child. Her mother warned
her to go out into the sun; there were more likely starfish to
bother in the coolness of the shade from the pier. It only made her
more determined to stay in the shade and keep an eye out for
starfish to add to her collection. Her mother hated when she took
the things out of the water or off the beach.
    Not today. She didn’t look for starfish
today. She wanted the stretch of her muscles, the exertion of her
body, the physical activity that was second only to dance on her
love list.
    Caroline told a fellow dancer that once,
that dance was her first love and swimming her second as far as
exercise went. Then walking. The dancer laughed, said she missed
one. The giggling shallow girl said sex was her first choice of
exercise and dancing her second, but it was safer to get paid to
dance and it all worked together well.
    That had been the first and last
conversation with that back line dancer. Although Caroline knew
many of the girls felt the same, or close to the same. Dance and
sex. Sex and dance. The two filled their entire worlds. What was so
good about it, anyway? Caroline had yet to understand their
fascination with having a man in their beds all night. It only made
it harder to sleep. They snored. Or they tossed and turned. Or they
insisted on throwing a heavy sweaty hairy arm over top of her body.
Or they got what they wanted and moved far away to the other side
until they hauled their big asses out of her bed first thing in the
morning.
    Swimming was far more sensual.
    The water caressed her skin. It both pushed
against her and held her up. It rushed over her face to stroke her
cheeks and made her close her eyes in defense and in pleasure. It
made her heart beat fast. It pumped blood through her system. And
it was there for her to decide when she wanted it and to avoid when
she didn’t. Its soft splashing and rushing and receding and lapping
was far, far better than a man snoring in her ear.
    She felt far more gratified sitting or lying
on her towel after an intense swim than she had ever felt beside