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 U.S.C.G. Rockaway Life Boat Station 

Rockaway, New York

Summer 1953

Elsa 

Bayside Police Sergeant Raymond Schmidt’s vacation was from Saturday, the seventeenth of August, through Labor Day. He, his wife, Tina, and their closer-to-sixteen-than-seventeen-year-old daughter were spending their vacation in a rented cottage at Far Rockaway.

This weekend belonged to the Port liberty section, but it was hot and humid and he didn’t feel like taking the long ride into the city and, seeing as Ewing was away for the weekend, he’d decided to spend Saturday and Sunday just laying around the beach and to go to Flatbush on Saturday evening for a Chinese dinner, then to see From Here to Eternity for the second time.

Standing knee-deep in the warm, calm water, he watched as a girl in a two-piece bathing suit trudged across the sand. Approaching, he saw that the girl was “put together” just like he liked girls to be put together: big busted, slightly on the meaty side, and not too tall. Carrying a blanket and a towel over one arm and a picnic basket in the other hand, coming closer the girl reminded him of someone he knew… someone he used to know.

Walking in the hot sand, looking for a likely place to spread her blanket, she noticed a darkly tanned young man standing knee deep in the water, whom she knew was watching her. Even though the beach was not crowded and she could have put her blanket just about anyplace, the girl absently veered in the young man’s direction. Coming close to the water’s edge, to almost directly in front of him, putting the basket onto the sand, flipping the blanket open, bending her body towards the water—showing more than just a bit of cleavage—she attempted to spread the light blanket, but the breeze lifted the end off the sand.

Watching as the girl came closer, then as she tried to spread her blanket, thinking, She came here on propose. Starting out of the water, “Hey!” Mitchell said, “I’ll give you a hand.”

Pretending she hadn’t noticed him, looking up, straightening her body, pulling her shoulders back—showing off her jutting breasts—“Thanks,” the girl said, as, shading her eyes with her hand, watching as he approached, “Wow!” she muttered, because ten months in the Coast Guard had removed even more weight, and had added even more muscle.

Holding two ends of the blanket down, “Hi,” now remembering whom this girl reminded him of.

Dropping to her knees, “Hi,” she answered back.

Using the picnic basket and her sandals, the girl weighed three points of the blanket down, as he, using a soda bottle he found in the sand, did the fourth.

Looking for some sort of an opening line, thinking, The truth here might work best. “You know,” he said, “you’re much prettier, but you remind me of someone I used to know from back home.”

“Yeah?” Smiling. “That’s a new approach! So, I remind you of someone you used to know from back home, only prettier, huh?”

Laughing, “No, it’s true , you do! You remind me of a girl I used to know in Chicago by the name of Ina Dorfmann.”

Sitting, “Ina Dorfmann?” she laughed. “I remind you of an Ina Dorfmann?”

Standing above her, “Yeah, but like I said, you’re…”

“I know! I’m much prettier.”

“Yeah, you are!”

He knew that New York men did not usually shake hands when meeting a woman for the first time but, It worked with Julie! Besides, he felt that it made meeting a young woman easier because once they’d touched, they’d shared something personal so, holding his hand downward, “I’m Mitchell.”

Smiling, “Hi, Mitch.” Taking hold of his hand, “That’s a pretty sneaky way to hold a girl’s hand before you’ve even met her.”

“Yeah,” returning the smile, and—so long as she hadn’t tried to free her hand—still holding her hand, “guess it is.”

“I’m Elsa.” Patting the blanket with her free hand, “Sit down, why don’t you.”

“Hi, Elsa!” Feeling the pressure of her fingers about his hand, What the hell, he thought, If she wants to hold hands it sure as hell’s okay with me. Sitting, “You know,” he said, “you’re not only the first Elsa I’ve ever met, you’re the prettiest Elsa I’ve ever met.”

Thinking, My God! He’s the fastest guy I’ve ever met! “Yeah,” she said, “I’ll bet you tell that to all the girls.”

“Only girls named Elsa…” Thinking, This is going too good, too fast! “You, uh, expecting anyone here today?”

Surprised at herself because, After all, I only first met him three minutes ago. Elsa enjoyed the feel of her hand in his, thinking, This guy is too good! “No, I’m all by myself today.” Lifting their hands, looking at them, “Uh?”

“Oh, sorry.” Reluctantly releasing her hand, “How’d you like the company of a lonely Coast Guardsman who’s far, far away from home?”

“You’re in the Coast Guard?”

“Yeah. I’m stationed right here, at Rockaway.”

“Sounds like tough duty. Yeah, sure, I’ll do my bit for my country by keeping a lonely Coast Guardsman who’s far, far away from home company today.”

“Great! Thanks! I’ll get my stuff.”

Licking her lips, Elsa Schmidt watched Mitchell Lipensky’s backside as he retrieved his blanket, T-shirt, book, and Thermos of lemonade.

Spending the afternoon on Elsa’s blanket, talking, they became acquainted.

Lying in the sun, they became warm, and…

On his side, looking at Elsa, letting a stream of sand trickle through his hand onto her bare midriff, both were becoming warmer, mentally and physically.

“Whew, it’s getting hot. You want to go for a swim?”

The warm sand tickling her stomach, shading her eyes, looking up, the look of him further warming her, “I’m not such a good swimmer, Mitchie. But if you promise to hold onto me,” rubbing her tongue seductively over her lips, “I’ll go in.”

Watching her tongue, impulsively lowering his head, placing his mouth over hers, kissing deeply—feeling a further tightening in the crotch of his bathing suit—drawing Elsa’s tongue into his mouth…

Just as impulsively—sensing a further flow of her fluid—Elsa complied.

…The long, ardent kiss breaking, Whew! “You kidding?”

Whoa, catching her breath, “Me kidding, what?”

“I promise! You bet I’ll hold onto you!” Adding suggestively, “Wherever you’d like me to hold onto you… Come on!” But, his erection very obvious beneath his bathing suit, standing, turning quickly, he ran into the water and didn’t stop until he was waist deep and the water covered the bulge in his suit. Diving, he swam underwater a few strokes, surfaced, looked to the beach and, “Come on!” Waving to Elsa, “The water’s great!”

Savoring their kiss, her lips warm, her tongue still tingling, standing, Elsa pulled the elastic bands of her two-piece bathing suit over the lower swells of her buttocks and the upper swells of her breasts.

Knowing he was watching, walking slowly to the water’s edge, Elsa hesitated as she felt the cool water on the soles of her hot feet, then continued on till the water reached her mid thighs. “Mitchie,” holding her arms out, “you said you’d hold onto me.”

Diving, he swam underwater until he touched her ankles. Breaking water, “Hi!” he said, but, because he still had a partial erection, remaining on his knees, looking at her, slowly moving his hands upward until they were on the backside of her upper, so smooth, still warm thighs.

“Mitchie, your hands are so cold!”

Placing her hands on either side of his face, urging him upward and onto his feet, “Here,” taking his right hand, she moved his arm about her bare waist, then, putting her arm about his waist, “I feel safer if you hold me this way.”

The feel of his flesh was wet and cool; hers warm and dry, and if anything had deflated by Mitchell’s plunge in the water, it was now, once again, fully inflated, and…

As they walked, trying not to be obvious, looking down and to the left, Elsa easily saw the cylindrical form of Mitchell’s penis straining against the material of his bathing suit… And the tips of her fingers involuntarily pushed a bit harder onto the flesh of his side.

Elsa and Mitchell walked until her breasts appeared to float and the water was inches above his navel.

The two stood looking at the gently breaking, endless ocean… Until, stepping in front of her, tasting the salt taste of Elsa’s flesh, he kissed her forehead, and she, putting both arms about his waist pulled him to her chest.

Her head beneath his chin, Mitchell smelled the salt tang of the young woman’s hair that mixed with the floral odor of her cologne, and now, feeling Elsa’s all-but-bare flesh against his bare flesh, Mitchell suddenly realized just how lonely he’d been and how long it had been since he had held a girl this closely, practically naked, chest to chest, heart to heart…

And for the first time in… how many days? For the first time in… how many weeks? Months? He did not know how long it had been since… Susan came to mind and Mitchell felt a swelling in his throat and a burning behind his eyes and he shuddered as an involuntary, quiet sob broke from deep within.

The side of her face pressed against his chest, Elsa felt the hair of his chest upon her cheek, and unknown to him, obeying a compulsion, stretching her tongue, she licked Mitchell’s copper-colored nipple… And the taste of the saltwater that beaded his chest was as an aphrodisiac and she moved her arms to below his waist, to about his buttocks and squeezed tightly and, feeling the hardness of his penis pressing onto her, Elsa, too, shuddered, and had an urge that she was afraid to have.

                                                                     ****

Elsa Schmidt had been proud of her overdeveloped breasts since they’d first become noticeable, when she was eleven, and since then had known that boys found her attractive.

It was only in the last year, though, at the start of her second year in high school, that she had let one boy unbutton her blouse, unhook her brassiere, look at, touch, kiss, and suckle her breasts… And Elsa Schmidt discovered that she enjoyed being looked at, touched, kissed and suckled.

But even so, it took another two months of that same boy’s coaxing…

“Touch me ‘there’ naked, Elsa! Please let me take it out!”

And promising…

“We won’t go no further! I promise, Elsa! We won’t!”

“No, Wayne!”

“Please, Elsa, let me take it out! It starts to hurt when you rub it through my pants that way.”

“Well, then”—although, really, she liked feeling it—“I won’t rub it any way, then!”

“No, don’t stop! It hurts more if you don’t rub it.

Elsa also liked knowing that she had the power to make Wayne come in his pants anytime she wanted to.

“Ain’t you never heard’a blue balls, baby? Look, baby, I won’t go no further! I promise you! No further!”

“Wayne, I said no!”

Then, on their very next date, “Okay, then, Let’s go steady, Elsa! You wanna go steady, don’t’ch’ya, baby?”

“Well…” Most of her girlfriends were going steady, so, “Yeah, okay.”

Then, because going steady moved a boy and girl to the next plane of their sexual relationship, she allowed Wayne to unzip his pants.

Soon all of their dates became petting sessions with her masturbating him and him masturbating her… by using a finger or the palm of his hand—under her slacks or dress—but always over her panties and, though she truly loved being masturbated, and holding him naked excited her and it never took very long for her to orgasm, too. But because she flatly refused to allow him to touch her “there” directly, within another date or two Elsa did allow and discovered that she enjoyed “dry humping” with—because she was afraid of pregnancy, and also did not like getting the crotch of her panties all wet with that sticky stuff, Elsa would allow Wayne to dry hump her—with his prophylactic-encased penis held firmly between the juncture of her thighs and pubis, over her panties, but…

“Come on, Elsa! Do it! Le’me put it in! Come on, Elsa!”

Unless ill, Elsa Schmidt went to church with her parents every Sunday, and though she had never heard a sermon denouncing dry humping, she had listened—more often than she had cared to—to sermon after sermon denouncing, among other things, “The evils of fornication!”

Because of her fear of God and out of respect for her parents, Elsa Schmidt refused to go all the way.

Because of the pressure Wayne put upon Elsa, and her refusal—though weakening resolve—to go all the way, at Elsa’s instance, the two had broken up at the end of the past school year.

                                                                            ****

Now, Elsa was completely taken with Mitchell’s looks, personality, and seeming total lack of egotism. In comparison to all the other boys she had ever known, in her estimation, Mitchell, at the age of nineteen, was the first “man” she had ever, in a male/female sense, personally known.