Freedom

I walked away, thinking of how I struggled with the ties that bound me to ideas that were not mine.

Limited in what I could manage, I had children, dogs, cats and horses. How could I possibly take the trip he proposed? To go would mean the world of old memories relived.

I would have to consider a wardrobe. I liked loose-fitting clothing, bright colors, and sandals. I had to pray for an escape.

He called me by the nickname my brother used when we were kids, Dory. My brother compared me to the small boat we used for traveling outward. Why? Because I made suggestions that took us far from familiar shores.

We sailed almost every day that summer. I remember how clear the sky was. A blue so soft, it made my tan skin look even more delicious. He licked my arms and sucked on my fingers. He said, "Dory, darling, you are just plain tasty." I remember the feeling of his tongue moving up and down my arm and how he tickled not only the hairs that stood straight up but also my heart. I had never experienced anything like that. I was only sixteen. My teeth white and free of braces. My breasts just filling out, and my mind bursting with enthusiasm to sail away with him on that day when the soft blue sky made me look something akin to the Goddess Athena. I thought I would always be beautiful. I thought my future would hold some charm. I dreamed of him long after.

Our family cottage was close to the beach. It had a large wrap around porch with rose-colored floral sofas and oversized cushions strewn not only on the seats but sprawling across the floor, inviting us to lay down together and consider the day ahead. It seemed the summer promised freedom unbeknownst to either of us.

We went to school together. Our parents had a ton of money. We had summer homes, private education, lots of cotton clothing in blue Oxford that matched the summery sky. I wore madras bermudas, and I liked to go barefoot. The sand beneath my feet wedged into my toes and got into my bed. I wore pink lipstick that he could barely see, but it was enough to attract his warm sensuous lips to mine.

My father was as handsome as my mother was beautiful. And I was tall, straight, and narrow. My brother teased me all the time. He said, "Dory, you are a skanky girl, as flat bottomed as this boat. No one will ever love you." He told me that often and every time, my heart sank. I lost confidence until he brought his friend home for the summer. And this miraculous almost man loved me from the very start. My mother arranged for him to stay in our guest house. I don't know what she was thinking or maybe not thinking. He was taller than me, his blonde hair swept off to one side, falling over his right eye. He wore tortoiseshell glasses that slipped down onto his nose. Maybe my mother thought he was not handsome enough and that I wouldn't be attracted, or perhaps she also thought I was too tall, too intelligent, too bookwormish to be anyone's summer romance. Or maybe she wanted me to have a summer fling to unite our family wealth. Perhaps I was to be sold off, part of a barter agreement between two empires. Whatever her motives were, the summer looked like long leisure days where we could disappear into a world of our making.

I wanted to be his girlfriend.

He had a reputation. I knew he already had sex. I was intrigued. Would this be the summer of my sexual liberation? After all, it was the summer of love.

The afternoon when we had sex on the boat, we swam out. Laughing and ducking under the small waves. He grabbed me, treading water, we kissed, and he put his hand down between my legs. I sputtered, sinking under; he pulled me up and swam off toward the boat. I followed. I was a bit scared but more excited by the prospect of what might come.

He got to the boat first and pulled me up., then quickly, he unfastened my top. And just as expertly put his hand between my legs, feeling the already wet excitement.

He took my hand and led me down into the galley. I did as he directed. I had no thoughts other than this was the most thrilling sensation I ever had. Would I stop? No, I didn't stop. I wanted to know. He laid me down on the mattress, opened my legs, and tried to glide and slide inside. It was not easy, and he said, don't worry, little girl, I know what to do. And he slid down, putting his face between the slit his tongue rolled inside of me. i gasped in pleasure. He put a finger inside me, gently moving it up and down and from side to side. I got wetter, hotter, and not in the least bit shy. I begged him, now, please, let's do it. He raised himself up and tenderly put his hard cock into the slit, just a bit at first and then a bit deeper until all of it was inside of me. He moved slowly, and he looked at me. I saw his eyes, and I knew they were loving. I gasped, he came, and I wanted more.

We stayed down in the galley till the sun had turned the clouds a blushing pink. Climbing up the steep ladder, he held my hips to steady my ascent.

I was not his first virginal conquest, nor would i be his last. I didn't care. I was living for the moment, and the freedom we had that summer was exhilarating.

Summer rapidly turned to fall. The pale colors of sun-bleached sand turned to warmer hues. The sand reflected a golden aura. A slight chill was in the air. He had graduated from our school, and I was to return, no longer an innocent child, but worldly in the way, my friends would envy.

He vowed to call each day, but he didn't. I waited in the dorm by the phone, and I haunted the mail for some word. I begged my brother to find him, and he didn't.

I was alone with a dream that would obsess me for years to come. And the one day, out of the blue, when I was unhappily married with an estate of my own, he showed up. He proposed I leave all behind, and we take a trip to Greece where I would be his goddess in golden sandals once again.

And I honestly did ponder, but freedom was unbeknownst to me.