Breezy Beach Rendezvous - Weird Tale - Sex Stories

Breezy Beach Rendezvous - Weird Tale

... carrying on: she was gone; gone for good… I have never loved you & never will; I have never loved you & never will; I have never loved you & never will. She had rushed round to The White Castle Hotel where she had lived & worked for the last five years. The Manager did not know where she had gone; she had collected all her belongings, ordered a taxi at nine this morning, & then just left. Her mobile wouldn't even connect to voicemail: she had gone; gone for good. Who’s good? She watched a tear drop into the water of the bath, watched the ripple expand out. She felt woozy from the sl**ping tablets; she couldn't delay any more. Naked, she stepped carefully into the bath & lowered herself down. The water level remained below the sides. She submerged her pretty face & with an incredible act of will, in defiance of nature, breathed in a lung's full of warm water. She coughed violently & her body fought to expel the water. It wasn't easy dying… * Douglas spluttered & vomited. 'Fucking hell, he's alive!' Greg shouted triumphantly & tossing the coat away he was going to cover his face with. Douglas rolled over onto his side & vomited again spewing bile & muddy river water onto the grass. 'What the fuck is going on?!' * Maria slotted the key into the lock of her door, pushed it open & entered her flat which had been converted tastefully into luxury apartments, Holland Mill House, from an old warehouse overlooking the river. On the mat was an envelope with the single word scrawled on ...

... it in black biro: Maria. She picked it up & then placed it down on the small table in her small hallway; more correspondence from the Residents' Association she suspected. She slipped off her expensive Italian leather handbag & removed her coat, the image still fresh in her mind of the rather disturbing incident on the river path a few minutes earlier in which it had looked like a man had died whilst rescuing a young lad from drowning. She recalled the drenched & shivering boy, with a coat d****d over him, sitting on the grass with his knees folded into his body; he appeared only to be shaken but not hurt. She was relieved by that; relieved for those that loved him. The man, in tragic contrast, of whom she only stole a brief glimpse as she had hurried by, looked as though he was indeed dead: glassy eyed & slack jawed, such that his mouth gaped open. He was middle aged & overweight. There was also somethingvaguely familiar about him too. The macabre tableau had quite shocked her & she was looking forward to talking about it later , talking it out of her system, with her husband, John of seven years whom she loved deeply. She strolled into the kitchen to prepare the evening meal for them both; John would be home just after six. She clicked the kettle on & remembered the letter. As she slid her finger along the envelope to open it she thought of the man who had drowned; & how tragically unlucky some people were. She realised in contrast how lucky she was to have John, John who ...