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Dancing In The Kitchen—A Surprise Vacation Romance (Part 1 of 2)

Full story here: https://scriptbin.works/s/dm8d5

Summary:

A warm tale of unexpected romance set in coastal New England. A chance encounter while on vacation opens a week of laughter, connection, and passionate lovemaking for Mary and Tom.

Additional tags: [Aftercuddle] [Afterglow] [Begging] [Breast appreciation] [Cock appreciation] [Cock milking] [Dirty talk] [Doggy] [Emotional safety] [F-bomb] [First date] [Healing] [Humor] [Lots of] [Kissing] [L-bomb] [Foreplay] [Meet cute] [Nipple play] [New relationship energy] [NRE] [Nurturing] [Pinned hands] [Pounding] [Praise] [Pussy appreciation] [Reach around] [Reminiscing] [Rough to sweet] [Slice of life] [Soft to Rough] [Squirting] [Suckling] [Switchy]

Part 1:

It's early summer. Tom and Mary are enjoying separate vacations in the same seaside village in New England. Tom is spending some time away from work after finishing a challenging, year-long project. Mary is celebrating the successful defense of her master's thesis. She has a week left in the states, after which she'll return home to Toronto.

That Sunday morning, Tom is reading on the terrace of the local bakery cafe. His table faces the ocean, which he can see through pine trees lining a rocky embankment across the road. Tom notices Mary as she crosses the terrace to the counter and places her order. She's wearing red gym shorts, the vintage kind with white piping, and a worn, forest green sweatshirt that's turned inside out. She has on Ray Bans, and a trucker's hat with a brewery logo. Tom doesn't recognize the brewery's name.

Mary notices Tom as well. He has a stack of books on the table beside him. His age is hard to peg; his hair is shaved close to his head, and he has a boyish look, but his temples are gray. He's wearing trendy eyeglasses, translucent plastic frames with a light blue tint.

Mary is on her way out of the cafe, juggling her pocketbook with a tall coffee and a croissant, when she pauses by Tom's table. She wouldn't normally bother a strange man in a cafe, but she's stopped by the book he's reading—someone's collected poems.

Mary apologizes; she doesn't want to intrude on Tom's solitude. But she's a literature student, she tells him, and a huge fan of the poet. Tom smiles and says it's nice to meet another fan.

Mary sits down and eats her croissant out of a paper bag while the two talk poetry. When she's done, she cleans her hands and removes her sunglasses. Tom notices that she's wearing mascara, but no other makeup. Her eyes are brown.

It's a comfortable conversation. Their talk moves on to the village businesses, the public beaches, and the area woods and parks. Tom has his favorite places; he lives in Boston today, but he's never strayed more than a few hundred miles from where they're sitting now, and he comes back to this village as often as he can. He tells Mary that as a boy, he camped in the nearby woods with his dad nearly every summer.

Mary describes her master's research to Tom. She worries she's boring him, and Tom assures her that she is not.

Mary hesitates. "You probably have your day planned out," she says finally. "With your family or friends. But I was about to walk to the park that's right up the road. I hear the beach there is good for beach combing. If you're not busy, would you like to come with me? I could hear more about you."

"I'm visiting here alone," Tom says. "And that's a nice little beach. Less rocky than most. I'd love to come along. But I planned to stop by the bookstore next to the bakery. Do you have time?" Mary says that sounds fine.

In the bookstore Tom finds a poetry collection by one of his favorite writers. Mary, who knows most modern poets, is barely familiar with this one. Tom tells her, "If you're agreeable, l'd like to buy this book for you. It has pencil marks in it, and it's a screaming good deal at $3.00. I'd love for it to go home with someone who'll enjoy it. I'm a nerd, and already have two copies, so..."

Mary thanks Tom and warmly accepts. They leave the bookstore and stroll slowly up the road. Overhead there are stunted pine trees with sunlight breaking through, and ocean air whistling through the branches.

Tom talks about his work for a small architectural firm, and the things he does for fun, when he has time for fun. He says he used to bake bread every weekend, but that tapered off. Finally he gave his sourdough starter to a neighbor. Mary doesn't know how to make bread, but her hobbies include eating it. "Not too much," she says. "Just the right amount." Tom laughs, and Mary tells him about her favorite bakeries and restaurants in Toronto.

Because Mary has no pockets, at the beach she limits herself to one stunning, perfectly preserved whelk shell and a nice piece of amber beach glass. She and Tom sit talking in the sun, until it finally disappears over the tops of the pines. Mary hands Tom the marked-up poetry collection, and asks him to show her his favorite poem. "There are many," Tom says, "but here's a good one." To his surprise, Mary clears her throat and begins to read the poem aloud.

It's a long poem, almost a story. Tom knows the poem basically by heart, so he's listening to Mary's voice. There are lilting highs and warm lows, and a slight scratchiness that he thinks might be owed to an occasional cigarette. He enjoys Mary's voice, and also her silences, which become more frequent as Mary slows down to think about what she's reading and savor the images. Tom closes his eyes.

In the poem, a woman narrates a long history of relationships with men: the first infatuation, the perfect love that ended too soon due only to circumstance, the man who broke her heart and the next whose heart she broke in turn, the mature love, the love that taught her a solemn lesson, and the light, airy love that taught her only to enjoy herself. At points the woman in the poem is alone with herself, another kind of relationship.

When Mary is quiet, Tom imagines she's searching the poem for traces of her own life. Does a particular series of lines describe Mary? Or is that chapter yet to come in her life? Are there lessons in the poem that Mary has missed? Is Mary's mother in the poem? And who is the poet? What made her tell this story?

Mary may be thinking none of these things, of course. Still, Tom listens intently, eager for any clue to what is happening inside her.

The poem ends, and Tom opens his eyes. He and Mary sit quietly for a minute, looking out at the ocean. Finally Mary smiles, and asks Tom why his eyes were closed. There is much that Tom could say in response. But he says only that he enjoys listening to Mary's voice.

At Mary's suggestion, the two walk back to the village to get lunch at the farmers' market. There, they find a stall selling delicious-smelling curry. The young hippie woman working the stall strikes up a conversation.

"You two are an adorable couple," the woman says. "How long have you been together?"

Mary and Tom exchange smiles. Tom replies, "Oh, not all that long..."

Mary laughs, and interjects, "We met for the first time three hours ago!”

"So this is a blind date? Your first date? Wait a minute," the woman says, making a horrified face. "Did I just make this weird?"

"Please don't worry," Tom says, laughing.

Mary adds, "You've settled it for us. This is our first date!"

She's smiling, but Tom sees nervousness in her eyes, as if by saying it out loud she might have broken the spell.

"If this is a date, I'm happy with that," Tom says.

Tom and Mary sit down at a picnic table to eat their curry. "That girl was a cutie," Mary says, and Tom agrees.

"So," Mary says, "our first date. In all seriousness, I really don't want to monopolize your time, or assume that you have nothing better to do. But if the thought of a date sounds nice, what would you say to keeping the date going?"

"I'd say thank you," Tom replies. "And yes please."

Tom and Mary agree to have dinner together at Mary's rental. They exchange numbers, and Mary sends Tom the address. Then, they circle the farmer's market, picking out a few nice vegetables and some protein. Tom says he'll buy a six-pack of good beer at the store near the bakery.

Outside the farmer's market, Mary stops by a pretty blue hybrid car. "This is me," she says. She puts the veggies and chicken into the car, and then turns back to Tom. "Would it be all right if I hugged you?" she asks.

Tom leans in and they embrace. Mary squeezes him tightly. Over Mary's shoulder Tom sees a small pickup truck approaching from up the road. One of the salt-eaten wrecks the locals drive. The truck passes Tom and Mary, and finally Tom hears its engine fade behind him into the distance. Tom and Mary are still embracing.

Finally Mary takes a deep breath and lets go. "Thank you, Tom," she says.

"See you tonight," Tom replies. He waves at her through her car window and turns to walk the other way.

Ten minutes later, Tom is emerging from the store with beer in hand. He receives a text.

Mary: About that hug. I'm a little worried that you'll think it was too... big.

Tom: That was a lovely hug, and just the right size. I would like another!

Mary types "YAAAAYYYY" into her phone, then deletes that and types "Yay!" in its place. She considers adding emojis, but doesn't know what would strike the right tone. Finally, she gives up and hits send. She goes to the bedroom to take a nap.

Thanks for reading this far! See next post for the continuation of the story…