A Cry in the Dark

Monday, October 16, 2006

sharing a memory....

I love it when we go to the beach. It’s as though the rest of the world melts away, leaving us on an island of our own. No interruptions allowed. You. Me. A vast ocean. A seemingly endless slice of beach. Crying seagulls. The shush of the waves. Peace and serenity. A little bit of heaven to be experienced by mortals.

It felt so easy to feed you lunch. The light-hearted conversation and laughter were so comfortable. When your cold hands slid under my shirt, the shivers were not only from the temperature. You built those internal fires higher and higher, reducing me to a shivering, moaning puddle. The satisfied smirk on your face as you walked away said it all. You were pleased with my response, but chose not to do anything about it at that time.

When you called me over, I did not expect the instructions I received. As I undid your pants, a little voice in my head jabbered away. How could I be doing this? Outside? In full view of anyone who walked by? Was I so certain no one else was around to see me? The voice was drowned out by your obvious arousal. As my lips gently slid over you, it disappeared completely. All I could focus on was you, heeding your instructions, savoring the taste of you, wallowing in the sensations filling me.... Wantonness. Decadence. Arousal. Need. Slut. Your hands in my hair directing the tempo. Ebb and flow, echoing the whispers of the ocean and building the waves of my desire. All too soon, you pulled me away and removed the prize. My frustration had to be visible, but you just smiled and told me to go back to my spot. How could you stop? How could you NOT want me to continue?

On the ride home, you told me why you stopped. If I had known at the time there were two guys at the top of the ridge watching us, I don’t know that I could have done it.... I’m glad that was a test you didn’t give me.

Posted by WistfulWench :: 5:29 PM :: 7 comments