We Live Only for Beauty Part 2

We Live Only for Beauty Part 2 We Live Only for Beauty Part 2

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

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Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

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Following Chapter 1

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Following Chapter 1

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Submitted: December 03, 2015

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Submitted: December 03, 2015

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WE LIVE ONLY FOR BEAUTY - CHAPTER 2:

 

The next three days went by far too slowly. Although we often spoke over the phone, nothing could satisfy my desire to have her in my arms once again. Just hearing her voice rekindled memories of our sweet encounter.

 

My waking hours were spent envisaging that beautiful face, made all the more beautiful by her absence. Time and time again - and to no avail - I tried to convince myself that I was no stranger to love, but the pounding in my chest every time her number came up on my cell-phone screen disagreed with me.

 

Thank the stars nothing untoward came up to alter our plans for the weekend. On Thursday evening, I phoned her.

 

“Hey my sweet,” She greeted.

 

“Hi Sara.” I replied because I had not come up with a term of endearment for her yet. None of the old ones would truly explain the esteem with which I held this angel incarnate. “I’m just phoning to confirm for the weekend. Things have gone according to plan for a change. So I’m free from tomorrow onwards.”

 

“That’s great news!” Sara exclaimed, “When will I see you?”

 

“I’ll come round in the afternoon.” I replied.

 

“Good. I can hardly wait.” She said almost in a whisper. Her voice became filled with yearning and desire that made its slight roughness sound even sexier.

 

My heart nearly exploded in my chest, and I nervously said: “I love you.”

 

There was a moment’s hesitation on the other side of the line. I was beginning to regret my proclamation, when her reply came loaded with emotion: “And I you!”

 

“See you tomorrow.” I confirmed, “Bye.”

 

“Till then, be good. Oh, and I hope you like hiking.”

 

I laughed and hung up. I almost shouted out in elation. My throat was tight, and there was a knot in my stomach. “What the hell! Get a grip on yourself man. It’s not like this is the first time …” I derided myself.

 

At last! Friday! I thought I had given up saying ‘T-G-I-F’ at boarding school, but when I woke up the following morning I found myself feeling like a schoolboy again. I packed a backpack with enough clothes in for the weekend.

 

At breakfast I informed the hotel proprietor that I was going to be away for the weekend.

 

I do not recall much of what happened the rest of the day. All I know is that three o’clock finally arrived, and I was on the road heading northwards out of town.

 

On the way I saw a small bush of yellow wildflowers. I stopped and picked a sprig. When I arrived, I gave them to Sara. She fell about my neck, burying her face in my shoulder. Her reaction made this simple gift appear as if I had just proposed to her!

 

Her embrace was so warm and gentle, I felt as though I was wrapped in a cocoon. I put my arms around her, and held her as though my very life depended on it.

 

“We should get going.” Sara suggested, “The place to which we’re heading is about twelve kilo’s from here. There’s a cottage there that my stepfather built as a private retreat. There’s no road, only a footpath. If we leave now, we should get there without having to rush.”

 

We set off at a leisurely pace. The weather was cool, and the air fresh. The trail took us through some of the most scenic parts of the forest, and in places overlapped the path we had walked when we first met.

 

As we strode down the path, we talked and laughed freely. Soon we were walking hand-in-hand. Her gentleness seemed to permeate through her palms. It felt so natural, even though we had essentially just become acquainted.

 

I was not a strong believer in ‘Love at First Sight’, but as I felt those delicate fingers curl around mine, I felt that I could quite easily be convinced that it exists.

 

We came to an old house, now in a state of ruin. What made it unique was that the garden was still kept in pristine condition. When she clarified the situation, I began to understand the mystery.

 

“This was where my parents lived.” She explained, “They died when I was a child. My uncle adopted my brother and I.

 

This was originally divided into two farms, and when my parents died, my uncle reunited the two and allowed the farm to revert back to its virgin state. The reason for that is because we wanted to harvest the herbs that grow naturally in this area. The site where my family originally lived has been made into a memorial in their honour. So the homestead has been allowed to return to nature - to a certain extent - but the gardens have been properly kept.”

 

She then showed me where her parents were laid to rest. She explained that her family had been instrumental in the promotion of herbal remedies in the country, especially the use of the natural herbs rather than those who had been artificially cultivated. Her father and his brother had started the venture before Sara was born. When Calvin Freiling and his wife died in a car accident, the farm went to his brother, Lucien, so that he could continue the venture.

 

As we rejoined the path, she turned to me, and we kissed.

 

Then she said: “There is a reason why I brought you here. You asked me if I knew that we would end up falling in love.”

 

I wanted to apologise, but she put her finger to my lips, and continued: “Argen told me that you were a freelance journalist, and that your speciality was human interest. I wondered if you would be interested in doing an article somewhere on our family and its business here. But my feelings for you got in the way, not to mention our making love on the beach.”

 

This time I was able to respond: “Sara, I knew right away that what I asked was wrong. And my answer is yes. I would very much like to do a story on your family’s history.”

 

“That’s wonderful.” She exclaimed, then with an impish smile on her face, she added: “Now come. Let’s make some history of our own.”

 

From behind, I put my arms around her waist, and kissed her neck. I whispered in her ear: “We’ll make it a best-seller!”

 

She leaned back against me, and in a soft voice, concurred: “You bet!” As she rested against me, the strap of her top slid off her shoulder, and I caught a glimpse of her cleavage.

 

“We’re not far from the cottage now.” She proclaimed aloud, smiling and pushing the strap back in place. “We’ll be there in about half an hour.”

 

A short time later, we came to the little stone cottage. It was made up of two rooms. The one was the living room, and the other the bathroom. The roof over the latter was flat, and a metal railing surrounded it.

 

Sara explained: “This was our refuge. Where dad and mother would come to be alone. Upstairs is where they used to meditate. The view from there is beautiful. Well, let’s go indoors. I brought some food down here earlier. Enough for the weekend. I hope you like wine.”

 

Inside, the cottage looked rustic but comfortable. There was a small coal heater and a worn-out sofa covered with a sheet. The floors were wooden, as were the rafters and the balustrade as well as the stairway up to the meditation platform.

 

We had a light meal accompanied by a light rosé wine. The sounds of nature were uninterrupted outside, and the lamps dotted around the room cast a soft light, adding a romantic feel to the setting.

 

We sat on the old sofa in each other’s arms and enjoyed the ambiance. I gazed at her face in the muted light, the glow of the coals reflecting in her dark eyes. I couldn’t help but smile. I felt as though I could sit there the whole night, and just drink in the beauty that was made even more gorgeous by the surroundings.

 

She smiled back at me. I took her in my arms, and we kissed. It was wonderful to know that we had all the time we needed, and there was no reason to rush. At last we could allow our love to flow freely, without hindrance or disturbance. As we explored each other’s lips, our breathing almost began to synchronise. Her arms around my neck, and her hands in my hair ensured that - for the moment - we would go no further.

 

As my hands caressed her dark flowing tresses, and I tasted the sweetness of her mouth, I had no other desire but to enjoy the moment.

 

When the time was right, my hand strayed down to her waist. I untucked her top, and lifted it so that I could explore her breasts. By now she had removed my shirt. Her arms still held my face to hers. I felt gooseflesh rise as our tummies touched.

 

She breathed out a sigh as I touched her. Our lips parted, and she threw her head back in a swoon of pleasure. Her nipples stood proud under her blouse in response to my touch, and she pressed her hips against my crotch.

 

I removed her blouse and jeans, and I could feel the softness of her skin as we embraced. Her one hand caressed my cheek as the other drew patterns of tingling bliss down my spine.

 

I kissed her cheek, and whispered sweet nothing in her ear. My hand held her in the small of her back. As she arched close to me, I felt the cleft of her spine, and I began to run my fingers up and down the crease.

 

“Uh-uh - that tickles.” She whispered. “Don’t do that.”

 

Obligingly I stopped, and my hand returned to where it had begun.

 

I took her in my arms, and began carrying her to the big four-poster on the other side of the living room from the sofa. She was light as a feather, and aided me by putting her arm around my neck.

 

She laughed, and said jokingly: “Be careful, lover. I don’t want you to injure yourself.”

 

“Hmm - Neither do I.” I retorted.

 

She wriggled out of my grasp, and took off my jockey shorts. Her hand traced patterns on my lower body that sent shivers running down my hips and inner thighs.

 

“Ooh!” she exclaimed as she saw my organ stand to attention. She took hold of it and began to slide back and forth along the hardened shaft. I felt my legs weaken as she pleasured me. My left hand caressed her breast. She took my right hand and guided it under her panties, her legs opening just enough for my fingers to find her eager womanhood.

 

She let out a soft laugh as she felt my erection swell and twitch involuntarily in response to her movements. I could feel her clitoris begin to protrude from its hiding place, and her thighs opened more to allow my finger inside of her.

 

I felt that my legs could no longer hold me, so I sat down on the side of the bed. She turned her back to me, and bent over to remove her pants. As she did, I caught a glimpse of those secret folds as they stuck out slightly from between her thighs.

 

I felt a knot in my stomach. My already swollen manhood throbbed with longing. I reached out to touch her, but she stood up before I could get there.

 

Naked, she turned towards me. She opened her thighs, and her hand found its way between them. In front of me she began to pleasure herself. Her hips gyrated in time to the movement of her fingers. Her other hand fondled her breasts, her fingers drawing circles over her erect nipples.

 

There was a look of satisfaction on her face when she saw my penis strain with longing. She blew me a sensual kiss, and gestured for me to take her.

 

I held her in my arms once more. Her body felt as though it would melt into mine as I kissed her still smiling lips. Her hips moved back and forth in their mystic rhythm. I turned her round, and sat her down on the bed, our lips still interlocked.

 

She sensed that I was on the verge, so she took me in hand, holding the base until the urge subsided. “Not yet, my love.” She exhorted. “We have all night.”

 

Slowly I regained control of myself. Gladly I accepted her plea, and calmed down.

 

“Thank you my sweet.” She whispered in my ear as she kissed me. I felt a deep satisfaction that our golden opportunity to be together for as long as we wished, had not come to an abrupt and unplanned end.

 

As I have said before, it had been a long time since I had been in a meaningful relationship, and apart from a few one-night stands, I had not been physical with a woman. Also, Sara was no mere woman. In my wildest, most erotic dreams, I could never have imagined that I would end up naked with such a find as the one whose arms held me that night. So it took every ounce of self-control to prevent me from going over the edge.

 

Now I was even more determined to make the best of it. My hand held her breast gently but firmly as she planted a kiss on my lips. It felt soft and pliable to my touch. Her breath came out in a slow sigh, and her hand held mine there. As she sighed, I caught a hint of herbs once more on her breath. There was the slight taste of wine on her lips.

 

My other hand pulled her hips until I could feel her against my midriff. She began to move against me as waves of longing raced through her. She groaned with delight at my touch, and ran her free hand through my hair.

 

She straddled me, and our sexes touched. She kept her hips as still as she could to restrict the friction between us. My hands caressed her back and her derrière. She cradled my head in her hands and planted small kisses on my forehead, cheeks and even the tip of my nose.

 

I looked up into her eyes, and saw the longing there. I knew full well that she too was delving into her deepest reserves to keep her desires in check. Further proof of this was the hint of moisture I felt even in the limited contact we had down below.

 

She lay on her back, her dark hair cascading over her seductive body. All the while that smile played upon her sensual mouth. With her hand, she brushed her hair off to reveal her proud breasts, as she looked longingly at me.

 

My eyes feasted on the marvel that was stretched out before me. Her mouth opened as she enjoyed my undivided attention. I was determined not to touch - not yet. Not until I had taken in all that there was to behold.

 

It was more than her breasts, although words could barely describe their beauty. The nape of her throat, and the cleft of her collarbones; the curve of her shoulders. The fullness of her lips … So much to absorb.

 

I then turned my attention to her lower body. The bowl of her stomach; the curve of her hips; her navel - I’ve always had a soft spot for a sexy belly button; the slightest glimpse of her mound between her thighs …

 

I could tell, just by sight, that her skin was soft and silky. Even though my hands had touched her before, as I caressed her with my eyes, they relayed to me the fineness of its texture.

 

To my surprise, I found that I had all but forgotten my still swollen member. I was so enthralled with her loveliness that, for the moment, it was enough just to gaze at her.

 

In all my previous encounters, I was driven by my need for satisfaction. Hence, as is so often the case with men, I was more than a little single-minded in my approach to sex.

 

Sensing my enjoyment, she opened her legs, and began to pleasure herself in front of me. I looked on as she explored her own sex. She inserted her middle finger into her maidenhead, and began to move it in and out.

 

That broke my trance, and I was eager to join her in the rapture. My hands stroked the inside of her thigh, and soon found her clitoris. As she continued to stroke her inner walls, I drew small circles around the small head that protruded from its sheath.

 

She withdrew her own finger, and for a moment - really close-up - I saw her honeypot waiting for my attention. I stroked her moist lips and felt her hips rise up to meet my touch. My fingers parted them, and she began to groan in delight.

 

All this time I focussed on her. Call it obsession, but I had never paid a woman’s sexual parts much attention. Now I could see how they reacted to my touch. Her whole being seemed centred around the longing for fulfilment that welled up in her loins. Her hand guided mine to the places where she wanted to be touched. Her voice was all the more seductive as her yearning caused it to deepen and soften to a whisper.

 

Her inner lips darkened and swelled, pulling the tiny foreskin from her clit. The entrance to her womanhood opened as if to welcome me in. As she moved back and forth, I saw the muscles of her inner thighs tense and relax.

 

As I inserted my own finger, her eyes closed as she seemed to fall into a trance. Her one hand cupped and fondled her breast, while the other held my hand in place. Her sensual mouth opened as she whispered almost inaudibly: “Oh yes! That’s so good!”

 

I introduced a second finger, and her groans became cries of ecstasy. The increase in pressure against her inner walls made her need soar to new heights. I watched her face as she was lost in her own world.

 

I felt such a sense of tenderness that I have never felt before. Instead of my attention being turned towards my own need, I felt that giving her ultimate pleasure was my sole purpose. No longer was I focussed on the destination, because I now saw that this was a journey. One that needed to be engaged and could be savoured at every stage.

 

I kissed her navel, and then stroked it with my tongue. Her stomach muscles contracted suddenly, and she giggled with jollity and surprise. I then traced a line down to between her legs. Long before I found her honeypot, she began to groan in anticipation. When I began to massage her with my lips and tongue, her enjoyment came out in cries as well as whimpers.

 

Her hips began to rise and fall as she urged me on. She held my head in its place, and then clasped her breast. The only words I could hear were: “Don’t stop! Oh my God - don’t stop!”

 

Her thighs that - at first - had been pressed against my cheeks, were now spread as wide as they could go. Her cream-pie was revealed in its full splendour before me.

 

Her own emissions flowed freely over my tongue and onto the sheets. Having never tasted a woman like this before, I relished the new experience. Not that it was that notable, but what I could sense was a clean, almost sweet taste. Not at all like I had imagined.

 

“Come into me.” She invited breathlessly, “Please.”

 

I rose up on one arm, and held my throbbing organ in the other. She looked down at me, and said: “Yes.”

 

Her breathing became even more laboured as I strained closer and closer to her. She held the base of my erection and I entered her slowly, gently. I felt her moist opening welcome me inside of her. Her vulva closed around me as if sucking me into her body. It was as though her whole being wanted me there. The gentle pressure that enveloped me at that instant took my breath away. For a brief moment, I lay still and savoured the pleasure.

 

I felt as though I belonged there, lost in the mystic world that is womanhood, but the sensations that coursed through me like fire urged me onwards on this erotic journey.

 

As I began to move inside of her, her face shone with emotion. Her mouth opened as she groaned, her eyes half closed.

 

I put my hands under her buttocks and lifted her towards me. She held onto my arms as if trying to steady herself. As I drove deeper, she began to rise and fall in time to my thrusts. Soon we had established a rhythm that would surely catapult us into the very height of splendid intimacy.

 

Her thigh muscles began to tense and relax as the cadence intensified. As I thrust, I could feel their tender strength against my hips. Their milky warmth made the already exquisite experience even more concentrated. I shuddered inwardly at the splendour of these feelings that coursed, not only through my body, but to the very core of my being.

 

“I love you.” I whispered, my tongue swollen in my mouth. In response, she smiled her secret smile, and threw her head back as if the words had caressed her. When she looked at me again, I felt as though her eyes pierced my soul.

 

In response, she mouthed: “Love you too.”

 

More than once, her hand strayed down to fondle my balls, but I held it in mine. I didn’t want anything to interrupt her bliss.

 

I kissed her breasts and the cleft of her collarbone. Her head rocked back in delight.

 

Her back arched and her hips were raised. Her whole body became like a ship in a storm, rocking back and forth as each new wave of sexual energy passed over her.

 

She locked my hips against her with her legs as a wave of delectation engulfed her. Her cries became louder and more incoherent. Her hips leapt and gyrated uncontrollably as her hands stroked and caressed me feverishly.

 

Her erect nipples jutted proudly atop her heaving breasts. Inside her I could feel the tension and desire grow in leaps and bounds. She squeezed against me with her thighs, holding me in place and at times restricting my movements. The sensation of her thighs caressing me became almost unendurable as she began to reach her zenith.

 

With one long sighing cry, her orgasm seized her. Her neck arched and her head went back in a swoon of abandon.

 

She drew her knees up as her womanhood completely engulfed me.

 

In a long sigh, she exclaimed: “Aah! My God! …”

 

She lay back with a sigh of pleasure, and the convulsions that had wracked her body as her climax washed over her began to subside.

 

Her hair was drenched with sweat against the pillow, and her face glistened with perspiration. Her hand lazily stroked mine as I held her.

 

She relaxed as her breathing returned to normal. She motioned for me to stop my thrusting. In a soft voice, she said: “I know you haven’t cum yet. But I want to please you as you have me.”

 

Somewhat reluctantly, I withdrew, my member throbbing its protestations. But I also felt a sense of eager expectation wash over me. I knew that what awaited me was going to be mind-blowing to say the least.

 

She sat up, facing me and smiling secretively. Then she reached down and began to fondle me. This time it was my turn to squirm as I rose to her touch. She moved her hand down to my scrotum, and began to gently squeeze me. My balls drew upwards in response to her movements.

 

Her fingers caressed my glans, and I felt as though I was going to explode. I closed my eyes and basked in the heat that she was generating.

 

She smiled at me, saying: “Is this good?”

 

To which I replied: “Hell yes!”

 

She bent over, grasping my erection in her hand, and took its head into her mouth. The wet softness drove me to the brink of distraction. She caught a glimpse of the expression on my face, and smiled with my member still in her mouth.

 

It must be every man’s wet dream to have a woman go down on him in this manner. I felt as though mine had just come true - and then some! Her hand worked up and down my shaft, while her lips and tongue coated the tip with laves of delight. I could feel her breast and her hair as they brushed against my thigh.

 

In my giddy trance, the only coherent thought I could manage to hold was: “It doesn’t get better than this!”

 

Her tongue continued to leave trails of rapture as my member began to leap and tremble in response. I felt my climax drawing nearer as she continued her entrancing movements.

 

I had forgotten what it was like when a woman attends to a man’s desire in this manner. Now her hands and her tongue brought back those memories in ecstatic clarity.

 

She focussed her attention on the tip of my glans. The tip of her tongue slightly parted the small opening. The sensation was one of exquisite rapture on the very brink of pain. As she tasted the first hint of pre-cum, she stopped sucking, and licked it off the tip of my penis, her tongue making it throb with desire.

 

As my tension rose to fever pitch, she began using just her hands. She smiled as I sighed and groaned uncontrollably in response to her attentions. The softness of her fingers and the tenderness of her touch made this experience all the more poignant. Part of my being wanted to wait at the very verge of my climax.

 

But at that moment, I had reached the point of no return. I felt the pressure enfold my entire member, and then centre itself around the swollen tip. Even if I had mastered the art of self-control, I could not have prevented myself from cumming!

 

Her hands squeezed the length of my erection. I am but a man, and as I felt shivers run down my thighs and up to my chest area, with a shudder, my organ released its load. She turned her head slightly to avoid getting hit in the face, and giggled as some of it landed on her cheek, and more of it trickled down her cleavage.

 

My whole body relaxed and I felt a sense of peace and tranquillity that I had not felt in many a year. It even surpassed that which I had experienced on the beach after our previous encounter.

 

I lay back, drenched in a flood of contentment, as my breathing returned to normal. Sara nestled her head against my stomach as her hands rested on my chest. I felt her hair soft against my skin, and the gentle warmth of her breathing. I put my arms round her, and we rested like that for a while.

 

The softness of her skin and those tender breasts that caressed me as she breathed. Her gentleness that permeated every aspect of her. The tranquillity of her slow and sleepy movements, … all these I held as precious memories in my heart.

 

She came up and kissed me, whispering: “Thank-you my sweet. I haven’t felt so much at peace in a long time.”

 

Again I insisted: “I should be the one thanking you, Sara. You really are a most extraordinary woman. An angel, that’s what you are.”

 

Again she laughed and buried her head under my chin. “Ok - I’ll be your angel. But don’t expect me to behave like one all the time.”

 

I chuckled: “I wouldn’t think of it.”

 

I rolled her over, and held her in my arms, looking intently into her dark eyes. Some of the aftermath still lingered in her expression giving her a certain dreaminess. She held my gaze.

 

“Your face never seems to relax. I hope one day I’ll be able to help you get rid of your ghosts.” She said softly, tracing her fingers over my eyebrows.

 

“Let’s take things one step at a time.” I suggested.

 

She lifted her face closer to mine, and breathed: “I love you.”

 

I held her gaze, and replied: “And I you.” and then kissed her.

 

The sweetness of the moment filled me to my very core with a sense of well-being and affection that I had never experienced before. I just felt so at ease.

 

Exhausted, we lay on our stomachs next to each other and talked. It was not the content of our conversation that really mattered, but rather the sense of togetherness that accompanied it. Even those details that, under normal circumstances, would have been considered trivial became all the more significant in the aftermath of our magical encounter.

 

As each moment passed, I relaxed more and more in her company. Never before had I felt so comfortable, so safe with a woman as I did that night.

 

Too many of my previous relationships had left my heart battered and wounded. Many of the injuries still lingered. But as we joked and talked, I felt certain that some of the hurt was fading away.

 

I felt somewhat unsure of myself when I said: “You asked earlier why I find it hard to relax. I do appreciate your concern, but it’s still too soon for me to open up to you to that extent. Even though we have very strong feelings for each other, we’ve only just met. I remain hopeful that this is only the beginning, and I can’t tell you how excited I am when I think of the possible future. So let’s allow our love for each other to grow at its own pace.”

 

She rested her head against me, and smiled. “I’m not in any hurry. We’ll know when the time is right. Just don’t hide from me.” She replied.

 

“That I can promise you. No secrets.” I conceded.

 

“Now I think we should get some sleep.” Sara suggested. “Good night my sweet.”

 

“Sleep well angel.” I answered. We kissed. She turned over and put my arm over her breasts, holding it there with her hand. I nestled into the back of her neck.

 

“Hmm. Your beard tickles.” She said softly.

 

“Sorry.” I replied.

 

“Don’t be.” She stated, “It feels good. All of this feels so good.”

 

As we drifted off to sleep, I knew that she was correct. It felt almost too perfect. I felt as though this could all have been a dream, and that - when I awoke - it would all be gone. But the warm flesh that pressed against me, and the soft groans of the one who lay sleeping in my arms assured me that this was no erotic fantasy. I truly felt that this was just the beginning.

 

That night I had a dream. In my travels I had seen a painting that depicted the male/female aspect of the Creator. In my dream, I saw that painting again. Only this time, the two faces smiled approvingly at us as we slept in each other’s arms.

 

Was this more than just a subconscious effort to express my own feelings of contentment? Or was it a vision of the Divine sanctioning the relationship? In my sleeping state, my mind could not answer that question, but in my heart of hearts I knew the answer.

 

The dawn had only just lightened the sky when Sara awoke. In my sleepiness, I noticed that her body was no longer pressed against mine. I opened my eyes, and in my semi-wakefulness I saw her standing at the window. She had only covered her waist, leaving her top bare. The pale light shone on her naked breasts. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders.

 

Seeing her like this rekindled the fiery memories of the night before that had been stored within me as I slept. I imagined her as I had seen and felt her in the moonlight that had filtered into the room, casting enticing shadows and nuances over that exquisite body.

 

“You’re up early.” I stated sleepily, “What’s up?”

 

“Nothing my love.” Came the reply, “I’m an early riser, that’s all. Go back to sleep.”

 

“Uh-uh.” Said I, “I don’t want to miss a moment with you.”

 

“You’re sweet.” She laughed.

 

I went to the bathroom to wash myself. When I came out again, she was already dressed. She was standing on the small veranda outside the kitchen area of the cottage. I went out and joined her. Being barefoot, I was able to get quite close to her before she noticed me.

 

I put my arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She smiled, and leaned against me.

 

“Hmmm - Your hands feel good on me.” She sighed.

 

“Your body feels good to my hands.” I whispered in her ear.

 

She took my hands and slid them down to the bowl of her stomach. The thin fabric of her gown did little to hide the secret details below. I could feel her navel and the lower part of her abdomen where it meets the pubic area. My hands stole down between her thighs.

 

“Uh-uh,” she said, “Not now.” However I heard the slightest hint of reluctance in her tone of voice, and comforted myself with the belief that she didn’t want me to stop. Nonetheless, I moved back up to safer areas.

 

The trance was broken when she stated: “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

 

As my yearning subsided, I became aware of other more base needs, like my addiction to caffeine. Normally my eyes would hardly have opened when I would head for the coffee pot.

 

 


© Copyright 2017 Tristan Biggs. All rights reserved.

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