Stu and Kara







Linda Delaney



I stood watching the group of surfers on the beach.  They intrigued me.  One of them stood out from the crowd, a six foot blonde with an athletic build.  He was laughing and joking with the group.  Something gave me the courage to slowly walk towards him.  He turned and looked at me.  I smiled and he grinned back.  My mind started to analyze the situation.

Hmmm, this is going to be interesting…Very interesting!

"Hey,” he called, acknowledging my presence, “What's your name?"

"Kara, what's yours?"

"Stu...    Hey, c'mon and join us..."

"Sure…okay.  Thanks."

Now, before I go any further, let me tell you a little bit about myself.  I'm nineteen.  My mother died when I was fifteen.  M y dad took it on the chin and never bothered much with me after that, so I've been pretty much on my own ever since .  I finished high school, held a few part- time jobs for spending money, and even though I still live at home, I pretty much come and go as I please. The sad thing to say is that my dad just doesn’t care.  I guess you could say I'm a female beach bum. I spend most of my time here at the beach. I've known a few guys, surfers mostly , here and there, but I don't just jump into the sack with anyone.  This Stu guy, tho, well, he looks interesting enough!  So, I guess we'll see!

He walked over to me, and slid an arm around my waist.  "I haven't seen you around."

"Nope, haven't been here in a while....Then again, I haven’t seen you here, either..."

"Touché!” I grinned back at him, sliding into the curve of his arm. 

“I don’t see you with any board.  You surf?”

“Nope.  Swim like a fish, but no surfing for this beach bunny. Rather let guys like you do it.” I tentatively placed a hand on his bare chest, and he didn’t shrug it off….

‘Chemistry!  Real honest to God chemistry!  Hmmmmm…

But then he whispered something in my ear, and I hauled off and slapped that cute face real good.  Left a nice red handprint right across his cheek.  Apparently the look on my face, plus my hand when it made contact, made him step back just a bit.

“Look, Stu… I may be many things, but I’m no whore! Go hump your damn surfboard, if you need it that badly!”

I stalked away, muttering a few carefully chosen obscenities under my breath and wanting to tell him where he could really put that board, and headed to a more secluded spot on the beach.  I can’t deny that I was attracted to him. Yeah, he was cute and blond and a surfer, but he had this…charm…about him.  He was, well, nice… God, I almost want to choke on that word… nice. I don’t like nice. It makes me want to puke, but he was, well, the only way to put it is…nice!  Kind, actually kinder than a lot of guys.

He couldn’t help the vibes I had sent out, what with I wasn’t wearing - a bright red string bikini top, with a thong bottom - as near to nothing as nothing could be.  Between that, and the way I insinuated myself into his group, I guess the guy was right to think what he was thinking.  Problem is, I like what I look like in this suit and, maybe I’m some sort of attention ‘whore’, but I get a kick out of seeing the guys’ eyes bug out when I walk by.  It took me a while to finally get this way, and I don’t mind enjoying it.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not stuck up or snooty.  And I’m certainly no dumb blonde airhead.  Far from it.  I’ve just always figured that if a girl’s got it, she ought to flaunt it.  Doesn’t mean I’m gonna screw everything that’s got three legs; it just means I can afford to be a tad more selective in whom I decide to have a relationship with.

When I walked off, I had grabbed a towel I had dropped on the beach and my bag, and headed to an outcropping of rock in the water. I guess I secretly hoped he just might follow, but I didn’t want to delude myself with any false hopes. The odds were pretty good that he wouldn’t follow, meaning I would never know ‘Stu Nice’, but I could hope.  So once I got there, I spread my towel on the tiny bit of beach and laid back.  I’m not tall, just average, about five foot six or so.  I’ve got blonde hair and brown eyes, and yes, at the moment I have a fairly decent figure.  Course that’s not always so, depending on what I’m binging on at the time.  Right now, carrots and broccoli are the leaders over cake and cookies, but as I said that changes with time. And so I laid myself and my string bikini on the blanket on the sand, closed my eyes, and dreamed of my Prince Charming.  Funny, at that moment, he looked just like Stu.

Somewhere along the line, I must have dozed off, because when I turned over, the sun seemed to have changed position in the sky.  And somehow there were clouds.  I pillowed my head in my arms, and waited for the sun to warm me again, but it didn’t happen.  There was this shadow that, after the first ten minutes, was getting me really annoyed. I hated cloudy days.  I loved the sun and the beach.  That was part of why I had almost a flawless tan….

I sighed heavily, totally bummed out over losing the sun, and rolled onto my back once more, ready to sit, and roll up that towel and head home.  Then as I started to sit up, there was the reason for my shadow.  “Stu Nice” was sitting on the rocks above me, blocking my sun and watching me.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I was wrong, I assumed….”

”Hey, just cool it, will you? You assumed what all you guys assume… And I told you why you were wrong, so it’s over.  So, what say we start again…?  Hi, I’m Kara…”

He grinned, a very charming and boyish grin, and stuck out a hand, “And I’m Stu…Stu Riley… I’m stationed here, at the Nelson Institute.”

“I live in Goleta, but I spend most of my time here at the Beach.”

He nodded.  “Wantta go for a swim?”

I smiled back at him…”Hey, sounds good to me…. What kind of swimmer are you or do you just surf?”

“Both, actually.  I’m a diver on the boat, but man, when those waves come calling, it’s like all I can do not to jump on my board and fly on the water…”

“I’ll bet…Surfer’s life….”

“… is the only life… Until the issue of ‘bread’ comes into the picture.  Man, we all need bread, you know…”

I nodded, with more implied wisdom than I truly had a right to. I had no idea how important ‘bread’ was…I lived at home, had no real needs that my father didn’t see to, and for all intents and purposes, hadn’t yet worked a real job a day in my life. Yeah, I waited tables for a few weeks at the Café Orleans, in the center of the Old Towne Mall. And I did a stint at both Andria’s  and Piero’s just to see what it was like… but need to make a living, not me!!

I sighed, and my surfer looked at me… “Sorry, Stu…Just thinking for a minute.  Hey, c’mon, let’s get that swim in…”

I stood, grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the water. Once the water was up to my waist, I pushed off the bottom, and dove under the water… and waited for him to follow.  He did, and we had the most glorious hour swimming than I’d had in a long time.

Finally, shaking the water off as I walked to the beach, I fell to my knees, and then spread the towel out to lay on… I rummaged in my bag, and pulled out another for him to use, along with a bottle of lotion for tanning, mind you, I didn’t need tanning lotion any more than any native California girl does, but again, it helped to break a few barriers.  I tossed him the towel and the bottle…then I laid down on my towel, and facing the sand, released the strings that held the top in place, rolling it into a ball, and tucking it into my bag.

“Put some of that lotion on my back, will you, Stu.” I asked him in a matter of fact manner. He smiled, pulled the towel I’d given him closer to mine, and then took the bottle.

“Where would you like it?”

”Mmmm…. All over… if you can..”

He poured a small handful into the palm of his hand, and as I lay on my stomach, he smoothed it into my back… from my neck to my ankles… his hands were sure, and firm, and felt sooooo very good. I know I sighed several times in sheer contentment. He finished, and I lay there for a while, his hands still easily roaming my back and buttocks. Finally, I turned on my back, and stretched lazily. “Could you do my front?” I asked, as I handed him the bottle.

“Sure…Kara… you okay with this…I mean…”

”Just the lotion, okay?”

He poured a handful again, and set to smooth the lotion on the front of my body. I frequently sunbathe in the nude, so my body is tan all over, and he realized that almost immediately, seeing that my breasts were the same color as the rest of my body, and not that pale white that many women had. As he slowly smoothed the lotion on my breasts, I could see the rise of interest his body was having, thru his board shorts, and I smiled to my inner self… yes, he was going to be good, very good….

I slid a hand to my side and released the ties at the side of the thong, starting to pull the triangle of fabric off. This spot of beach that I’d chosen was isolated enough for whatever I, or we, would decide to do, so I had no fear of being observed. His hand reached out, and stopped mine.

“No, not here… not now…”

I stopped. He continued.

 “The guys will be expecting me back. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I’m not interested. This just isn’t right. Not here and not now.”

I rose up, and leaned on one elbow, “Okay…so… now what…?”

“C’mon, let’s get back to the group. The guys will want to meet you…. We’re cooking on the beach tonight, we have leave for another two days.”

I nodded, interested in meeting the rest of his group, at least it would be an interesting day, and maybe a more interesting evening. I quickly pulled my top from the bag, and tied it on, then grabbed a little shirt that was in there, and pulled that on. Stu rolled up the towels, and I  put them, and the lotion back in the bag. As I started to rise, he grabbed for my hand, and pulled me up. He smiled, and clasping my hand in his, we walked the quarter mile down the beach to the group that was now engaged in an intense game of volley ball.

As we stood to the side, watching the game, he pointed out some of the men, that he served with, he said. ‘Ski, Pat, Rod, Malone, Andrews, Richards… and the girls that were with them, each of whom he named and pointed out to me. When the round was finished, I found myself playing volleyball with a spirited group of people, whom I immediately came to like and felt comfortable with.

These guys were different, maybe because of where they came from, and where they   worked… but they were different. And Stu, well, he was just a nice, easygoing guy.

I was having fun, for  the first time in a long time. Just plain fun, no pressure, no expectations. And when the game ended, the group moved to a nearby pit, that some of the guys had dug, and where they had a fire going…. They opened up some coolers, took out soda and beer, and a whole mess of seafood, and they tossed it into the pit, and covered it up, waiting for it to cook.  Stu and another guy pulled guitars from the pile of belongings, and started to strum and play. Before I knew it, I was singing along with the rest of them, sharing a beer, and waiting for the food to finish cooking. 

Stu sat sharing the beer, in between playing the guitar. All the music was what you would call Beach music, and I sat close and enjoyed the companionship…There was something about this group of men and women that set them apart from others that I knew as surfer types. I liked and trusted them from the get-go. They had an easy camaraderie with no egos. They all helped each other setting up for the cookout, sharing the drinks, and just, basically, being with one another for a good time. They were all “Nice”. Tho’ the word makes me shudder, its true. These are nice guys, and women. And this Stu, he’s really ‘nice’.

Finally, the food was ready, and we gorged ourselves on crab, clams, lobsters, corn and potatoes. I ate so much that I hurt. But I was having just a good time. A simple good time. Finally we were done, and we all helped clean up the place, bagging the garbage, and putting the bags in the trash cans in the parking area.  Then we all returned to the beach, and the remains of the fire, for more singing, and talking, and  beer.  It was a long, lovely night, but it had to come to an end. The beach in the early morning does get cool, and none of us were dressed for that. One by one, we drifted away, goodbyes being said, and preparations to meet at their boat in two days were quickly discussed. I rose, gathered my bag, and got ready to leave, when an arm snaked around my waist..

“Need a ride? I have my van. It’s not much…. But it’ll get you home…”

I hesitated with my answer. The ride would be nice, and well, the busses stopped running out this way about an hour earlier. I didn’t want him to think that I was cheap or easy. Surfers slept around, so did their girls. I was no different than any of the other girls, but he was. I knew I wanted to, simply, have sex with him.  I knew he was just as interested. I guess I debated with myself for all of fifty seconds, then…

“Thanks, Stu… that’d be great. The busses stopped running a while ago. It’s only about 20 minutes away from here.”

He bent and picked up his board, sliding it under his arm, and holding my hand with his free one. I had my bag, and a towel, draped over my shoulders. We walked to his van in an easy, relaxed silence. When we reached it, I couldn’t help but stand and smile… it was, well, an amazing vehicle.

A 1969 Volkswagen bus….painted…well painted a multitude of colors.  Stu Riley may be a good surfer, but his taste in colors was, well at the very least, poor. I can’t begin to put down the combinations and patterns that existed on that bus. Suffice it to say, it was … interesting.

He turned and grinned, “Whaddya think, Kara. She’s a beauty, isn’t she??”

I tried to determine a safe answer. Cautiously, I smiled, and said, “Well, she certainly has personality, Stu. REAL personality.” I moved to the front seat, tossed my bag in and jumped in. Stu put his board in the back, and got behind the wheel. He put the key into the ignition, and turned it.  The motor didn’t kick. He looked at me sheepishly.

“She’s a bit temperamental.  Sorry, Kara.”

I leaned back in the seat, and watched.  It was a different side of the guy I had met earlier.  He was, actually, getting angry, something in that I thought it wouldn't happen.  He was so easy and relaxed, I was really surprised at the fact that he swore, rather freely, at the car.  It finally kicked, and he relaxed.  The tension in his body melted away.  The muscles of his back, under his shirt, visibly slackened. Perhaps I should digress here, and described him more thoroughly. 


He's a surfer and, blond and tanned, I think first and foremost.  Nothing more or less.  He has a wonderful, gentle, smile and a caring way about him.  He makes you feel like every word that you say is important to him. He also makes you feel that he will do anything for you, and if he makes an error, or thinks he’s hurt you, he is constantly apologizing for it. That said, He laughs easily and is slow to anger.  When he talks about his boat and his Captain, you also know that he will never settled down, unless he is forced to. 


It seems that the Captain, once Stu signed on, made allowances for him to keep his ‘board on the boat.  That won his undying loyalty to the Captain of the boat. The Captain earned his admiration when he realized that the Skipper did not ask anyone to do anything he didn't do first, and Stu said he couldn't count the number of times Captain put himself at risk to save the man and the boat. 


Anyway, as I see it, he'll never leave the Seaview until he has to and settling down is something way in his future.  But, he likes the ladies, or so he tells his friends.  Sitting at the fire on the beach, they were sharing their tales of whenever they're girls left the fire.  I don't care, really.  If we could get together, it will be nice and if not, well, it will be nice in a different way ... there I go, using that word,  nice!


I direct him through a maze of streets and highways, some 30 minutes from the beach to home.  My father isn't here ... he's away on business.  He's been gone a week, and I know he won’t be back for least one more. 


I live in a small neighborhood, most of the houses are bungalow style - the small houses of the late '40's.  It isn't too bad.  It needs a paint job, but it's neat and clean.  There are flower boxes on the stoop, for color and I guess for the soul.  I like flowers in bloom.  Right now they're a riot of color, full of pink, salmon, white, purple and other shades of the red family, impatiens. 


Anyway, it's dark and the ride to his Institute would add another hour onto Stu's time, so in the guise of friendship, I offer in the couch.  It isn't much.  A kind of faded Rose Garden pattern, once overstuffed, but now lumpy.  I hope he won't take offense at the offer, but he gladly accepted, almost as if it was too good for him.  I headed off for my bedroom.  I sleep in the tiny room, the smaller of the two in the bungalow.  I'm convinced that the ‘bedrooms’ were only one room when the bungalow was built, but were split for privacy as the family that built it, grew. Either way, the room although tiny, is mine. My bed is a full bed, once again, a practical choice, not for comfort, it was here, when we moved in, and I chose to keep it.  


I quickly stripped off the tiny bikini and jumped into the shower.  Hot water feels good.  It also feels good to get rid of the sand.  When I finish, I grab a towel, and stick my head into living room. Stu's lying on the couch, and it looks like he's asleep. "If you want to take a shower, it’s right through here." I point from my room to the door to the bathroom. He sits up slowly, and smiles. 


"Thanks, I can use a shower.  As much as I love the beach, sometimes the sand really gets to me."  He grinned widely, moving towards me, and I tossed him a towel for the shower.


“Here you go! Soap and shampoo is in the shower itself. Enjoy!” He grinned again and closed the door behind him. I went into my room, and toweled down, reaching for a loose, oversized tank top sleep dress and pulling it on. I padded to the kitchen, smiling as I passed by the bathroom door, listening to Stu singing in the shower. He has a nice voice, nothing special, but nice, and easy to listen to. He does put his heart and soul into his singing… at least it seems that way. I grab a beer, and some chips, and get a second bottle for Stu. I put it on the excuse of a coffee table, and settle into the far end of the couch. The lumps are fewer here.

I do love this ‘home’ of mine, mostly because it’s the only home I’ve known. Yet I often dream of what else is out there. Of having a home where the furniture isn’t lumpy or a ‘gift’ from a friend… of a home that is neat and clean, and newer than the artifact that we have. Yet I also know that I am lucky. At least I have a home, a place with running water, and heat and clean, and I know that it’s a lot more than a lot of folks I know have.


I have to wonder about Stu. He seems so at ease at the beach, so much a part of it. I have to wonder where he grew up, where he came from, what he’s like.  I mean I know what he’s like when he’s on the beach, but what else… I wonder…


The water in the bathroom has stopped, and so has the singing.  I hear the door open, but  I don’t turn to talk, to look at him. He’ll see me here soon enough. He must know what I want…what I need from him. He comes out of the bathroom, the towel I left him wrapped around his middle. His chest is lightly covered with blonde hair, almost the color of the hair on his head, but that’s no surprise. He looks a lot like a little boy, but the way that he wears the towel shows me he is a man. He doesn’t say a word, but sits on the couch next to me, and takes the beer in his hand. A couple of swallows, and he murmurs, “Thanks.”


Turning to me and smiling, he says, “Nothing like a good beer after a good shower.”


He slides his arm across the back of the couch, “Do you mind?” he asks.


I nod, ‘No’, and slide a little toward him. My leg touches his, and the connection, is well, to use a trite expression, ‘electric’. I’ve wanted him since I saw him today. But I wanted him on my terms, I didn’t want him to think that I slept with everyone I met.  I don’t. But, oh, I want him.  He is a special man, that’s for sure. … and I am sure I will see how special….


He lets his arm drop on my shoulder, and we sit there, in silence, sipping the beers. He pulls me a little closer, and I lay my head on his shoulder. His hand drifts downward, a solitary finger brushing the tip of a breast. I shiver with the touch, and he looks at me, a question in his bright blue eyes. I nod slightly, and he drops his head towards mine, his lips first gently kissing my forehead, then brushing my eyes, and cheeks, slowly, ever so slowly making his way to my lips.  He brushes his lips with mine, the soft touch a tentative one.  I curl my body closer into his, and give him a gentle kiss back in return.


He’s emboldened my response, and the next touch of lips is more demanding, more eager. “Are you sure?” he whispers, as he kisses my neck and earlobes.  My response is a simple “Mmmm” and a nod of the head, although I doubt if he is looking at me. It’s more of a sense of permission, than the spoken word.


I put my beer on the table, and he puts his next to it. My arms encircle his neck, as he slides his beneath my back. I kiss him. This kiss leaves no doubt of what I want, what I expect. His response lets me know that he understands.


With my arms still around his neck, I rise slightly, and then, sliding my arms down his torso, I first tug at the knot of the towel, releasing it, and then tug him to his feet.  As he rises, the towel falls to the floor.  At the same time, he hooks both thumbs into the straps of the tank I’m wearing, and slides them off my shoulder, allowing the sleep dress to fall to the floor, next to the towel.


This time, when we kiss, our bodies touch, and skin to skin, meld to one another. I can feel his member beginning to harden against my leg, as the kisses become deeper, and the hands explore further. We are almost the same height, and my breasts lie nipple to nipple with his. The eroticism of them touching, then pressing against each other sets deep fires with in me. I’ve not felt like this before… His nipples are hard, chest hairs surrounding them, coarse and slightly scratchy. Mine are softer than his, but the rubbing against his is thrilling me, and making me want to know his whole body at once… I run my hands down his back, feeling the muscles in his back and shoulder, and I reach his butt, and that too is firm, and tight. I pull him closer, feeling him touching me all over, his hands softly touching, but somewhat rough and calloused. His touch is absolutely erotic, the blend of soft and hard stirring feelings I haven’t felt in a long, long time. His penis, hardened now, slides between my legs, rubbing softly at my clit… A soft moan escapes my lips, and hungrily, I devour his mouth in a kiss that flames more desire in me than I have ever imagined.


Conscious thought is rapidly fading, being replaced by simple, pure animal response. He is kissing my neck, my throat, making me shiver again and again. His lips move downward, capturing a nipple, and he begins to nip lightly at it, while his hands and member play with my clitoris, his fingers seeking and finding the entrance to my being.


He bites my breasts lightly, nipping and then sucking them. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, and I’m sure that he can hear it as his mouth and lips work their way down my body. He stops at my bellybutton, licking around it, and then moving his tongue in and out, mimicking the act that will soon follow. His mouth moves further down, and then he is licking and sucking at me, at my clitoris, his tongue moving in and out, driving me over the edge. My knees buckle, and I give into the pure sense of satisfaction, as we crumple together onto the floor.


He doesn’t stop, his lauvage of my innermost self not ceasing until I have climaxed, panting and limp on the floor. He then slides his body over mine, and parting my legs, slides into me, gently taking me with his whole self. He gently guides me to another climax, different this time, because he is so deep within me. I feel him come, feel his sperm flooding me, and I feel joyful and fulfilled…


He wraps his arms around me, cradling me close to him, remaining within me. He is gentle, and caring in his lovemaking. There is a sweetness, almost an innocence about him. I raise myself on my elbows, and disengaging him from the intimate embrace, rise, holding his hand, and pulling him gently toward my bed.  We walk to the room, hand in hand, like small children, holding a huge secret between them.


In the doorway, he turns me toward him, and kisses me again. A sweet, gentle kiss, that is at once familiar and passionate. This is the way sex is meant to be, sweet, familiar and fulfilling, with no claims, and no demands. Just an answer to a basic need.  And he certainly was the answer to my need.


We went to bed and made love several more times that night, as well as for the next two days. We left the bedroom to shower, and grab a beer or two. I have never, never spent any time with any man, before or since, like him. He was always gentle and kind, and always, always saw to my satisfaction before his own. He ‘cared’.


Finally, on the final day, as we lay sprawled and tangled in the sheets, he murmured, “Kara, I’ve got to go… We ship out tomorrow, at 0900. I have to report back today.” He looked at the bedside clock, “ In like an hour and a half.” He snuggled closer, one hand squeezing a breast, while the other, fingers manipulating gently, started to bring me closer to my peak. I had my arms wrapped around his waist, and was kissing his shoulders and chest, “Mmm, okay,” and as I came closer and closer, my breathing more rapid and gasping, “Oh… Oh…” I pulled him close to me, locking my arms around him, and holding him tightly. I cried out with the climax, and then he rose over me, holding my hands in his, and slide his penis into my waiting warmth. In and out, first agonizingly slow, then faster and faster, prolonging his climax, until I had another, and then, he joined me in the release of that passion that only a man and woman can truly experience.


Kissing me again, he slowly rose from the bed, and pulled the sheet over me, sliding his hand down my arm.


“Stay here…” he said softly. “I’m going to shower. I’ll be back in a little while.”


Drowsy with the aftermath of our lovemaking, I rolled onto my side, and fell into a deep sleep.


He awakened me with a gentle kiss, one that led to a deeper, more passionate one.


He pulled away, as breathless as I was. I saw now, he was dressed, wearing a blue jumpsuit, the color of which matched his eyes.  I pulled myself up to a sitting position, and he smiled at me…


“You are beautiful, Kara. I really don’t want to leave you… This has been.. well something I can’t even begin to explain… I …I want to come back to you…if, you’ll have me. I’m not just saying that either. I… well, I’m a sailor, I’ve known a few women… No one like you, though… no one.”


He pulled me into an embrace, kissing me again, running his hands through my hair, all over my body. I knelt on the bed, touching him through his uniform. I couldn’t get enough of him, I didn’t want to let him go. I wanted to keep him in my bed, forever.


The coarseness of the uniform fabric scratched my naked body, but I liked the feel of it. It was something that I’d never experienced before… something that I couldn’t seem to get enough of… of him, of his clothes…I didn’t want this to end.


He released me, and gently moved my hands away from him.


“I have to go. I really have to. But I’ll be back in two months. I’ll be back here, and I want you to come with me, to meet the guys, to meet the Skipper and the Admiral. And I want you to see her, the boat.”


He took his hands in mine, kissing each of them, palms and tops, and then stood. “I’ll be here, in two months… I promise.”  I stood, and pressed myself against him. “I’ll be here. I’ll wait…I… I want to be with you.” I took his hand, as he took his small duffel in one hand, and we walked to the door.


He smiled a crooked smile at me, “You’d better step away from the door. It wouldn’t do for the neighbors to see you like that, as beautiful as you are!” He kissed me again, long, and hard… “I will be back.”


And he was gone. I watched as his VW drove up the street, and then I went to my bed, laid there, and held the top sheet close to me. It smelled of him, of me, of our lovemaking, and I wanted to hold it close, and never forget the smell and feel of him against my body.


I’d never spent that much time with one man in my bed. I’d never made love so many times, in so many ways in such a short time. I wanted him filling me, forever. Holding me close, and never, never leaving me ever again.  For the first time in my life, I had regrets about a man leaving me. I wanted him so badly, I needed him… and he said he would come back…











Seana is playing in the yard. Her blonde hair sparkles. Stu came back. I was pregnant. He wanted to marry me. I told him no. He wasn’t the marrying kind. We argued… we argued a lot.  We didn’t marry, but he was there when Seana was born. He does send me money to help with support. I moved away from Santa Barbara. He is a good man, and would be a good father, but we had a golden moment, and its over. It ended when he left that day. That I got pregnant is nothing I regret. I took the chance, willingly. Seana is worth it.  Her name means ‘God’s Blessing’ and she is. She’s five now. When she’s old enough, I’ll tell her about her father, the good man that he is, and why we didn’t marry. I hope she understands. I truly hope she does….











Hit Counter

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea”® and its characters, indicia and designs are trademarks of Irwin Allen Properties, LLC.  © Irwin Allen Properties, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation.  All rights reserved.

Website design and original content, i.e. original fiction, characters and all biographies, are the property of Daffron and Delaney, LLC, except for the rights reserved for Synthesis/IAPLLC regarding its trademarked and copyrighted material.