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Author's Notes: All characters in sexual situations are at least eighteen years of age

I sat back and wondered why I loved summer so much, as I gazed from my banana chair perched on top of the first dune back from the water. From there, I could see miles of white sand covered by just a couple of feet of water in most places, with a few deeper holes, ideal for a dip. Although this view is what I consider the most beautiful in the world, I closed my eyes and had a huge range of visual and emotional memories come flooding through my brain. I tried to remember my very first image of the beach and summer.

I remembered when I must have been around four years old; playing in the back yard of the house I grew up in, in the small country town where I lived until I was ten. Summertime then meant an all-encompassing warmth, the freedom to take your shirt off, playing down by the river, setting up the kiddie pool and slippery dip in the back yard, staying up late, parties with friends of the family, and some time in the big city with a chance to go to the beach.

I enjoyed the pool in the back yard the most. How much more fun can you get than that? The sun, the slippery dip, the splashing, and the wet ground between your toes as you line up for another slide into the pool. Little did I know that there would be greater pleasures in life, not as simple or pure, but better just the same. ...

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