Free Spirits

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Lionel and Elise lose their virginities

Author’s notes:

1. This is a work of fiction. The activities and practices described in this story are not necessarily either condoned or recommended. If you choose to do anything described in real life with real people you do so at your own risk.

2. All characters are fictional and any likeness to any living person is purely coincidental. The story is purely imaginary and, to the author’s knowledge, bears no relationship to any factual occurrence.


There are some women who men find intimidating. Elise was one of those; tall, lissom, her low-cut, almost but not quite transparent bodice almost but not quite revealing her upper body charms devoid of any visible means of support, her waist-length mane of blond hair blowing in the wind in much the same way her full, long skirt was, the many slits to her waist revealing a pair of beautifully tanned legs that seemed to reach almost to her navel. She could, and did, intimidate most men at fifty paces, leaving them staring, gibbering wrecks as their over-vivid imaginations conjured up the delights that might have been, could have been, should have been but were not – yet. More than one husband felt the sharp elbow of his wife dig him in the ribs as he turned to stare at this goddess.

“Damned whore,” some wives would mutter, “Such women have no morals or sense of decency.” It is certain that their respective husbands certainly weren’t staring at Elise to detect either of those dubious assets.

Elise herself was totally unconcerned about the furore she caused among married couples. She enjoyed being her, enjoyed the freedom she felt wearing the free-flowing and partially revealing clothes she chose, enjoyed the freedom to be beholden to nobody, being able to make her own choices, to do as she wished and to be accountable only to herself. However, she had a secret, actually, more than one.

Her first secret was that she had inherited a fortune from a wealthy grandparent and this was managed by a firm of accountants appointed for that purpose by said grandparent, meaning that she received a very generous income without having the need to work. This, she realized, greatly enhanced her freedom to do as she pleased, allowing her to take several overseas trips each year as well as live the life she chose.

Her second secret was that she was desperately lonely. She felt she epitomized the poor little rich girl stereotype. She was fully aware that her freedom and careless demeanor tended to drive men away, but she was unwilling to change this, to become more dependent, to appear more helpless, just to attract a male. If men wished, they could take her as they found her, warts and all, but she had not found a male who was sufficiently assertive or confident in himself to enable him to approach and overcome the hidden defences of the ice maiden.

Her third secret was the closest guarded and, to her mind, the most devastating secret she had or could have had; she was a virgin! Deep inside, she was ashamed, horrified and completely embarrassed by the fact that at 25 she had never known the feeling of sexual intercourse. Sure, she pleasured herself occasionally, usually when she was bored and lying alone in her large comfortable bed feeling sorry for herself, but she believed that the momentary pleasure she felt on those rare occasions was a very pale imitation of the pleasure that was waiting in store for her with a real, live, willing, sexy boyfriend who had the persistence and ability to penetrate her defences and her body.


Lionel sat under the beach umbrella and watched the lissom picture of female sexiness pick her way through the soft sand above the high tide mark. The gentle breeze blew her skirts every which way, offering tempting, sensual, tantalizing glimpses of her beautifully tanned ankles, calves and, occasionally, her thighs, hips and other sights which most ladies preferred to keep covered in public. It was obvious from these glimpses that she was naked beneath her skirt, and the equally tantalizing outlines of her breasts through her semi-transparent tops simply served to confirm this conclusion.

Already Lionel had delayed his departure as he tried to find out more about this secretive, alluring goddess. He had surreptitiously followed her to her hotel and even entered the foyer to watch the numbers increase as her private elevator transported her to her penthouse suite. At night he dreamed of loving her, of the transports of delight they would share as they romped together in sexual ecstasy in her gigantic bed, of the fun they would have together swimming naked in the luxurious tepid pool of her suite, as portrayed on the hotel website.

He had watched her closely, but from afar, and had seen no male presence in her life, so if there was one he apparently did not leave the hotel. He briefly let his imagination run wild as he imagined him being chained up in her suite, his only duty being to service her rampant sexual desires, before Dikmen Escort he returned to reality and realized that scenario was highly unlikely. All he needed was the courage, the sheer audacity to simply sit next to her on the beach and start a conversation.

Twice he had vowed that today was the day; that he would stride purposefully up to her beach towel as she lay on the sand, her skirts split to expose her legs to the sun and sit beside her, introduce himself to her, begin a conversation. In his imagination he was kissing her within minutes, was invited back to her room and they spent the remainder of the day making mad passionate love together. Twice he had walked past her without stopping, then spent the remainder of each of those days mentally berating himself for being such a coward. What did he have to lose, he asked himself. Only his pride, his ego, his manliness. What did he have to gain? Heaven on earth!

Lionel awoke to a beautifully fine day, alone as usual. He pulled back the drapes, looked out the windows and made his silent vow. Today, he told himself, was the day when he was going to sit down beside this epitome of female perfection, would introduce himself, would talk easily and knowledgeably about whatever topic she wanted, would listen attentively and empathetically to whatever she said, and at the end, as they left the beach, the outcome would be unknown. That was the adventure.


What a beautiful day, thought Elise as she pulled her curtains away from the glass doors that opened onto her secluded outdoor tepid pool. She opened the doors and walked through, gently lowering herself into the pool, feeling the warm water embracing her naked body and found herself wishing it was someone a little more substantial doing the embracing. She kicked away from the wall and swam the few strokes to the other side where the early morning sun shone on her directly. What to do today, she wondered. Where should she go to attract her lothario to her, what should she wear, what should she do to be most attractive to the male gender. She gave up. She had no siblings, had attended an all-girls school and really had no idea about how guys ticked. The only thing she had been warned about was that they would always take advantage of a girl, always wanted sex and that sex caused babies, and so she must be very careful to avoid boys at all costs. These beliefs, instilled by her mother when she was a young teen, reigned supreme and had influenced her behavior for all her teenage and adult life. She finally admitted she had absolutely no idea how to attract a male or what to do with him even if she did attract him. All she knew how to do well was to create an air of frigidity, which experience had told her worked repelled even the most persistent man.

She climbed out of the pool, stretching her lithe body as she allowed the sun to dry the water, then went into her room and rang the bell, knowing it would take exactly four minutes for her breakfast to arrive, plenty of time to don one of her many semi-transparent tops and pull on her favorite flowing split skirt. She ate breakfast when it arrived and then, taking her beach towel and a small bag of necessities, left her suite, riding the elevator to the ground floor before stepping out onto the sidewalk. She decided on the spur of the moment to walk the short distance to the local shopping center, which she did, browsing in shop windows distractedly before heading to the beach. She spread the towel and sat on it, gazing out to sea, imagining her true love arriving in a Viking longboat, picking her up and carrying her away with him. Unfortunately, the only marine craft approaching the shore were surfboards, with children and young adults riding them and paying no attention to the poor lonely girl on the beach.

“Hello, do you mind if I sit here?” asked a voice beside her.

Elise turned quickly, wondering who had broken through her aura of independence and resistance, then saw a handsome young man standing beside her towel. She looked up at him and detected an air of distinct nervousness. With a word she could send him on his way, a flea in his ear that would prevent him from approaching women on the beach any time soon. But she stopped and cut short the incisive words she was about to say. Could this be her Viking, she wondered.

“No, it’s a free beach. Sit where you like.”

It was hardly a welcome mat but Lionel was grateful not to have been sent packing, so he nervously sat on the sand beside her.

“I’m Lionel,” he said, smiling what he hoped was a friendly and welcoming smile.

“Hello, Lionel,” replied Elise.

What do I say now, thought Lionel, a little put out by her abrupt manner.

“It’s a beautiful day,” he ventured.


Lionel had never been much of a conversationalist. He could talk fluently about things he understood and join in conversations when with a group or when someone else was also contributing, but making conversation Eryaman Escort with someone who appeared less than happy to see him? He was at a complete loss. Honesty is best, he thought.

“You’re not very friendly,” he said, appalled as he heard the words leave his mouth. “I thought you looked lonely and could use some company. I’ve watched you for several days and you don’t seem to have any friends or company so I thought you might like to talk with someone. Apparently not. Sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Lionel stood to leave, fighting back the tears that came to his eyes as he realized how much store he had placed on getting to know this beautiful woman, an opportunity which now seemed more remote that any star in the night sky.

“Sit down. You’re not going anywhere.”

It was a voice of command which he did not have the strength of will to disobey. With a perplexed look on his face he sat again and waited as he watched Elise compose herself and look at the sand for a few silent minutes. At last she turned to him.

“I’m sorry, Lionel, can we start again please?”

He nodded.

“Hi, Lionel, I’m Elise. I’m really desperately lonely and feel I have not a friend in the world. I’m sorry I was rude to you; I’m not used to being approached. My carefully cultivated, frigid manner is usually enough to keep men at bay. You must be very special. Thank you.”

Lionel said nothing for a few seconds, digesting her statement, then replied, “I approached you because you seemed to be lonely and it’s not good to be lonely on a beautiful day like today. I was lonely also and I thought it better if we could be lonely together rather than apart.”

It was one of the longest sentences Lionel had ever spoken to a stranger and a part of him watched himself in amazement, wondering where he had found the audacity to say these words out loud to this beautiful stranger. Then he remembered the old adage: faint heart never won fair lady. He strengthened his mental resolve to woo this fair lady.

There was silence between them for a few minutes, the sounds of the sea and of people enjoying themselves filtered around them.

“Thank you,” she said at last, “That was beautiful. Yes, I am lonely, desperately lonely, but I have no idea what to do about it. I have sought to repel all would-be friends and possible suitors and have a reputation as an ice maiden. Are you sure you don’t want to leave now?”

“I’m sure.”

She turned to look at him, assessing what she saw. Another lonely person, nervous, probably ready to run at the first sign of a rebuff. She wondered how he had managed to stay here even for this length of time.

“Shall we go for a walk then? I find it easier to think and talk when I’m moving.”

“Yes, I’ve watched you walking along the beach these past few days. You seem to enjoy walking.”

Lionel stood and offered his hand to her to help her up. She looked at the hand for a few seconds, as though it was a metaphorical submission, as though to take it would be a surrender of her power and independence. She took it and he helped her up, noting the exposed length of soft and tender looking inner thigh that was exposed by the action. His fingers itched to caress that sensitive skin.

Lionel picked up her towel and carried it for her, another sign to her of her capitulation to his will, and they walked along the beach in silence for a long time, watching others playing in the waves, the seagulls wheeling overhead and the hum of distant traffic on the esplanade.

After what seemed like an age Lionel opened the conversation, talking about his home town, which was only a few hours’ drive from hers, of his childhood, his parents, his dog who died last year. She proved to be a good listener and slowly opened up a little about her own life. They had much in common; they were each the only child of professional parents, both of whom worked; they each felt neglected and unloved in childhood, each had graduated from elite colleges and they both enjoyed strawberry shakes, this last item being discovered when they visited a refreshment booth after about an hour long walk.

They sat in the shade drinking their shakes and felt a strange bond of friendship growing between them.

“You know, you’re probably the first guy who’s ever taken an interest in me,” she commented.

“Well, you’re a very lovely and interesting person once a guy can get to know you. However, your defences are quite difficult to penetrate at first. Why do you feel the need for defences?”

Elise looked down for a long time, lost in thought. When she lifted her head he noticed tears in her eyes.

“My parents were terrified of me ruining my life by having sex too young and becoming pregnant. So I was told to never go out with boys. I guess I’m still running that program.”

“Oh, so you haven’t had a long string of boyfriends then? With your beauty I would have thought that was a given.”

“No, I’ve never had a boyfriend,” she replied, Esat Escort then in a barely audible murmur she continued, “I’m still a virgin.”

Tears fell from her eyes at this last confession and her shoulders shook with her sobbing. She realized that in a very short time Lionel had been able to allow her to release so much of the self-inflicted hurt, pain and loneliness she had felt for most of her life. She thought she should have been angry, but instead she simply felt gratitude.

Lionel tentatively placed an arm around her shoulders, expecting it to be brushed away peremptorily, but it was not. Instead she leaned against him and then, to his great surprise, turned towards him and buried her face against his shirt as she sobbed her heart out for several minutes. Not knowing what to do in this situation, Lionel simply stroked her long blonde hair and let her continue to sob. Eventually she seemed to relax and be at peace, but made no attempt to move away from him. Lionel was amazed at the apparent complexity of women, this one in particular, and was in awe of her ability to simply release the emotional pain she was carrying. He wished it was that easy for himself.

Eventually Elise sat up and wiped her eyes with her hand.

“Thank you, Lionel. I have to go now. You won’t want anything to do with a stupid little girl like me who blubbers away on your shoulder. Thanks for the shake, for your company and your sympathy but now I need to go back to my lonely world and be alone again.”

Elise stood to leave and was in the act of turning away when Lionel did something so uncharacteristic of himself that in retrospect he was amazed. He simply stood, took two steps to position himself in front of her and embraced her in a full, loving hug. Without thinking he pressed his whole body against her and just held her tightly.

Elise stopped; she had little option as he was bigger and stronger than she was. Her first instinct was to struggle to free herself but that was quickly overwhelmed by the need for comfort, so she relaxed and felt the wonderful feeling of security and protection that she had been craving all her life. Again they remained silent for a long time, simply allowing their bodies to communicate, no words needed. Ultimately it was Elise who broke the spell by lifting her head and looking Lionel in the eyes.

“Thank you. I didn’t know how much I needed that. Thank you.”

She laid her head on his shoulder again for a few moments, then moved her body away from his. Lionel sensed that she was not going to run away so loosened his hold on her. She stayed in the circle of his arms quite willingly, both leaning back a little, their lower bodies still pressed against each other.

Lionel began to feel embarrassed. He had never been this close to a woman before, never had his body pressed against a woman’s body in a way that could be construed as sexual. He felt his penis beginning to swell and harden and was terrified in case Elise felt it also and misinterpreted the sensation as more than simply his natural body response to being so close to such a beautiful woman. Just the thought of what was happening was enough to increase his arousal and there was absolutely nothing he could do to control it. He tried to move away, releasing his hold but she simply placed her arms around him and pulled him closer.

“It’s Ok,” she whispered in his ear, “I can feel you’re getting aroused. Is that how I affect you? I’ve never felt this before, never been this close to a man to be able to feel it. Just let me feel it a bit longer, please.”

Lionel relaxed, his shame and embarrassment gone with her kind and loving words. As he pressed into her again he felt his penis continue to rise and press against her mound through the thin material of her skirt. He looked around; they were the only customers in the stall so it was in reality quite private.

“Do you want to feel it better?” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh yes please, darling,” she whispered back.

Hmmm, darling, he thought, that sounds nice. He reached down and positioned his penis so it was pointing upwards and could grow to full size, then, on the spur of the moment, he moved her skirt around so there was a split to the waist right over the cleft between her thighs, and he pressed his now rock hard penis against her bare pussy with only the thin fabric of his beach shorts between their skin.

Elise liked the feelings that she was feeling as he repositioned himself and pressed willingly against him, feeling the hardness of his manhood and for the first time in her life, wishing that it was inside her, filling her desolate vagina and loving her.

“Mmmm, that feels nice,” she whispered in his ear. “Are you very aroused?”

“Yes, I am, are you?”

“Mmmm, I think so. Have you done this before?”

Lionel blushed at the very intimate and personal direction this conversation was taking.

“No, I’m a virgin too.”

That got her attention. She pulled her head from his shoulder and looked him in the eyes, trying to assess whether he was telling her the truth. From the embarrassed blush of his cheeks she knew he was telling her the truth. Wordlessly she hugged him closer, feeling his penis pressing into her mound and belly as she became more aware of her breasts with their hard nipples pushing against his chest. He was just perfect, she thought, what a find.

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