On a trip home to Australia, Sandy slips away from family and friends to enjoy a little quiet time on the shore. There she runs into Alana, an old flame from high school, who's still as beautiful as Sandy remembers.
Alana's recent breakup has left her vulnerable, but sure of what she wants. Seeing Sandy again after all this time awakens feelings in her she thought she'd buried.
On the wild sands of an Australian beach, the two women find what they've both been searching for all this time.
She studied the solitary figure for a moment longer, then peered harder. It couldn’t be, could it? she asked herself. Could it possibly be Alana after all these years?
She remembered with longing how beautiful Alana had been at school. They’d gone through puberty together. Had fun fooling around with each other too, she remembered. Sandy’s pussy began to throb thinking about those days. She wondered if Alana had changed very much.
She remembered one particular night they’d shared together. It was after Alana’s nineteenth birthday and she’d thrown a party to celebrate. Sandy was also spending the night. Sandy had been in bed, naked under the covers, masturbating. She hadn’t realised she’d left the door partially ajar, so when Alana popped her head in, her face streaked with tears, it was only natural she decided to come in to talk.
Sandy had lay rigid in bed, frozen with her hand between her legs. What a dilemma! What if Alana wanted to jump in under the covers like they sometimes did?
Alana had been seeing Steve for a couple of weeks and had gone outside to say goodnight to him. When the rest of the guests left, Sandy went up to the spare room and put herself to bed, never thinking Alana would come in for a late night chat.
Steve had tried to get fresh by groping her breasts and Alana had pushed him away, telling him she wanted nothing more to do with him.
“I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” Alana had said, her voice barely audible.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Sandy had said, comforting her. ”He’s just not the right guy and that’s all there is to it.”
“Can I stay in here with you tonight?” Alana asked. “We can talk like we used to when we were little.”
What could Sandy say? No, I’m naked underneath these covers. Could you come back later? Before she had a chance to respond, Alana stepped out of her dress and carefully climbed in under the covers, her slip and underwear still on.
The room was in semi-darkness. An outdoor security light filtered through the half-closed drapes. Sandy lay still, her mind racing with how she would explain her lack of clothing. She decided she’d wait until Alana was asleep before sneaking out to dress.
But Alana wiggled closer and her hand touched Sandy’s naked flesh. Sandy tensed, holding her breath, wondering what would happen next.
Alana’s hand very slowly travelled down, over Sandy’s hip, and onto the fullness of her buttocks before she threw back the covers and flipped on the bedside light. Sandy, unnerved by Alana’s scrutiny, blushed furiously as she attempted to pull back the sheet.
“No, don’t,” Alana begged. “Can I touch you again?”