Chloe’s Confessions Part 3 - Sex Stories

Chloe’s Confessions Part 3

... like being in a free fall until the bottom, where my body was slammed into the wooden seat. Even though I was strapped in, I still grasped the front bar as if my life depended on it. I didn’t scream, but I moaned I’d call it on those rides. I felt myself being shoved back and forth on the curves, and up and down on the hills.

Periodically, I dared open my eyes. I saw that crazy chick Gina waving her arms in the air. Meanwhile, girders were passing over my head, and the direction of the train made it seem like I could be decapitated by any of them. It was time to close my eyes again.

At the end, I shakily got out of the car. I never puked after such experiences; maybe I was too proud.

Gina came over and laughed at me. “So, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I feel like I’ve escaped death.”

“Come on, this is a lot safer than driving on the highway.”

She hadn’t had enough, and she had to ride the Atom Smasher twice more that day.

*****

Afterward, we sat on a boardwalk bench and looked at the Atlantic. Gina soon became too restless staying still, so she suggested that we wade in the surf – just up to our calves, she said.

I wanted to know, “What are we going to do with our shoes?”

“Just leave them on the sand; I don’t think anybody is going to snatch sneakers.”

Jenny said, “Maybe you can get away with that at Jones Beach, but not here.” That was at a state park out in Nassau County, and it was difficult to reach by public transit. “With the bags ...

... Chloe and I have, we can stow them in there.”

We felt like kids again as we splashed in the shallowest part of the Atlantic. Of course, we misjudged the surf at times, and we mock-screamed when the water came up high enough to wet Gina’s rolled-up pants and the hem of Jenny’s skirt.

When we were getting ready to leave, the topic of where we could go for real swimming came up. Orchard Beach in the northeast Bronx could be reached by a local bus, and we had all been there. It had nice bathhouses for changing, but it was on Long Island Sound and there was no surf.

I liked Jones Beach, an even more elaborate and beautiful Robert Moses creation with two huge swimming pools. My dad had a car, so I was the only one of us familiar with it.

Gina was not deterred. “We can take the Long Island Rail Road and then a bus.”

I was skeptical. “That’s a long trip. Do you realize how long it took just to get here?” I didn’t keep track, but it was well over two hours.

“The LIRR is pretty fast. We’ll look at the schedules and I bet it’s not as bad as you think.”

In the end, we decided to try it at least once and see how it went. Then, Gina hinted at something slightly provocative. “I want to see what kind of bathing suits we all have. No, no, don’t tell me; I want to be surprised.” I must have given her a sharp look because she smiled and winked at me. She said, “Ladies, we’re going to look better than mermaids when we come out of that bathhouse. I’m looking forward to that ...