A man walks on a beach, he meets with a strange delusional woman. (Nudity, sex, delusion, mystery, fantasy).
This happened to Jim in winter of 2016, in the last year of his graduate study at the University. Jim decided to spend his winter vacation in a small village on a shore, in Northern Ireland. He went there all the way from Boston, where he lived. He wanted to have a quiet time for retrospection and self-healing, away from home, after his emotional breakup with his former fiancé Fiona.
He arrived at the airport, then rented a car and drove for a long time, on a windy road to the small village on a coast. Driving a car on left side with a steering wheel on the right side was inconvenient for him and took all his attention.
He arrived at the destination late in the evening, parked his car, and went inside a small village Inn, which stood on a shore.
The Inn owner greeted him, led Jim to his room, then offered him a cup of hot tea with honey to rest after the long travel. Jim thanked the owner and sat at the table in a small foyer, next to the fireplace where wooden logs burnt, giving him a pleasant sense to warmth.
The innkeeper asked Jim, how long he intended to stay, and what he was going to do in the village. “There’s not much entertainment here, especially in winter, you know,” he added, looking at the rare visitor curiously.
Jim told the owner that he was planning to stay in the Inn for a couple of weeks, walking on a beach and doing meditation, and maybe writing a book or a journal with his thoughts.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” said the innkeeper.
“Just one bit of advice, young man,” he added. “If you do go on the beach, you should know this. There is an old shabby house, far on the cape on the beach. Stay away from that house. It has bad reputation lately.”
“Really?” Asked Jim, with curiosity. “What’s wrong with that house?”
“A strange young woman lives there,” said the Inn owner, glancing at Jim grimly.
“She lost her husband, a few years ago. He was a fisherman. One time it was a strong winter storm, and he did not return. Since then, the woman lost her mind. She often walks around dressed indecently and sings strange songs. Locals don’t like her; some say she brings a bad luck.”
“All right, I’ll keep in mind to avoid that house,” said Jim, indifferently. But curiosity was already sparked in his mind.
Next day in the morning Jim woke up early, ate breakfast at the Inn, hot cereal with milk, then he dressed up well, in a sweater, winter jacket, boots and winter hat and went for an early morning walk on a beach.
There was fog in the damp cold air around the cove. Jim walked nonchalantly and looked around at the quiet dunes and boulders around the cove, at flocks of early seagulls circling above the frigid water. Snow crunched under his boots when he walked along the coast on a dirt road.
Jim walked down on the beach, close to the water. The beach was empty.
There were boats stored upside down far from the water. It was cold. Wind blew from the sea. There were no other people anywhere in sight. Jim walked slowly, absorbed in his thoughts.
Then he saw a strange sight. A young naked woman walked slowly on a snow-covered beach toward him.
She walked unsteady, dragging her bare feet in a snow. Then she stopped and turned head to the water. She did not notice Jim. She looked intently far away to the horizon.
She hugged herself for warmth, keeping her arms crossed over her bare breasts. Her hands were tucked firmly under her armpits.
When he came close to her, he took a good look at the woman. She was probably in her twenties. She was of medium height and a bit skinny, but she had wide hips and a cute round butt. She had long curly brown hair that flowed on the wind. Her brown eyes looked wary, as if she was afraid that someone might do something sinister to her.
She trembled from cold and sniffled repeatedly because of a cold or crying.
Jim came to her and asked: “What happened, do you need help?”
“No, I don’t want your help, leave me alone,” she replied. She turned her face away from him and sobbed. Her eyes looked sad and unfocused.
The woman obviously felt discomfort from cold, she trembled and rubbed herself with her hands. She rubbed her feet one on another.
Jim tried to touch her at her elbows. She jerked herself free from his hands and tried to hit him with her fist. “Go away,” she screamed at him.
“Why are you fighting me?” He asked, surprised by her reaction. “Let me help you.”
“I told you, I don’t want you help,” the woman said stubbornly, “keep your hands off me.”
She stood with crossed hands, clenching her teeth from cold, and looked at him indifferently.
“What happened? Why are you naked?” He repeated his question. “You will freeze if you keep walking like that.”
“It’s none of your business,” she said warily. Then she kept walking, not paying any attention to him.
He stood in place, perplexed, unsure what to do. He thought, “That woman is obviously delusional. She may die if she won’t get help.”
He started walking, following her in a distance.
She walked unsteady a few hundred yards, then she sat down, with the crossed legs, with her butt in a snow. She sat like that, motionless, breathing a freezing cold air deeply. She closed her eyes. Her chest moved up and down when she breathed.
She breathed deeply, inhaling and exhaling cold air calmly.
When he came close to her, she suddenly lifted her arms and started singing some old Irish folk song in a soft mellow voice.
Jim did not understand the meaning of that. What happened to that woman and why did she sit in the snow butt naked, singing that strange song? But the tune of her mellow voice touched him deeply.
He took off his winter jacket and wrapped it around her bare shoulders when she finished her song. Then he sat down on the snow next to her.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and glanced at him with her sad but beautiful eyes. Then she tucked herself tight from the cold under his jacket. He took it as a good sign that she began trusting him.
He wrapped his arms around her, and they sat quietly. He patted her back under the jacket with his hands. Her naked butt and feet were still in a cold snow. But the warmth slowly returned to her body. She did not shiver as much as before. He felt that her trembling body relaxed. She put her head on his shoulder and sighed deeply.
Then suddenly she turned her face to him and whispered into his ear:
“I want you to make love to me, now.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, perplexed.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I want it now.”
She suddenly shook his jacket from her shoulders and dropped it on a snow.
Then she laid with her back on the jacket, her bare breasts in front of him, her nipples standing hard from the cold air. Her butt and legs were in the snow. She stretched her arms to him and said, “Come here.”
He came down on top of her, panting loudly. He kissed her shoulders and her breasts passionately. Her skin was surprisingly soft and warm despite the cold air. She moaned and breathed deeply, her breasts went up and down. He touched her nipples; they were hard and hot under his fingers. She gasped when he touched her nipples. Then she stretched her arms and pulled him to herself, kissing his lips passionately.
Then she spread her legs wide and lifted them up in the air. Jim could not wait any longer. His cock throbbed with excitement. His heart pounded in his chest. He unzipped his pants and took out his cock which was hard and erect. He penetrated her vagina with his penis, thrusting it with wild passion. She screamed and moaned, and then she wrapped her legs around him. He thrust his cock one more time and came and grunted, his sperm filling her vagina.
She gasped for air, arched her back under him, and screamed loudly in her orgasm. They laid still for a moment, both catching their breath. She was holding him tight with her legs and hands wrapped around him. Then her hands relaxed. He stood up, panting heavily.
“What happened to me?” He thought. “I have not had such passionate sex in years.”
“What did I do?” He kept thinking, with a sense of remorse. “I banged the poor woman in a snow, instead of helping her.”
He looked down at her. She laid on her back, breathing deeply, with her eyes closed, her legs and butt in snow. Her lips were half opened, and he saw white vapors from her breath in the cold air when she exhaled.
“Are you all right?” He asked, worriedly. “Are you cold?”
“I am all right,” she panted. She smiled. Her wide brown eyes looked at him happily.
She sat up on his jacket and huddled her bare knees with her arms close to herself for warms. She felt cold again. She glanced up at him and asked, “Are you Henry?”
“No,” he replied, “I am Jim.”
“I know,” she sighed deeply. She sniffled and said, “You don’t look like my Henry. But you are a kind man just like him. And you have a big cock, like Henry had. Maybe you are him, just in a disguise?” She asked, with a hope in her trembling voice.
“No,” Jim said, taken aback. “I am not Henry, I am Jim. Henry died long time ago.”
“You are lying to me,” she screamed. She stood up, naked, in front of him, with a sudden angry expression in her eyes.
“You all lie to me,” she said with crying notes in her voice. “He will come back to me one day. That’s why I walk here naked every day, rain or shine. I even walk naked in winter, in the cold. I want to be naked when my Henry comes back.”
She sobbed, then hugged Jim. She put her head down on his shoulder and wept for a moment. She sniffled, wiped her nose and her tears with the back of her hand, then turned around and ran away from him, toward her shabby house, her bare feet pounded in the snow. She ran along the beach and disappeared behind the snow-covered sand dune in a distance.