Laying her head back of the pillow behind her neck, letting her eyes close as the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks nearby washes over her. The dark short locks of the woman looking sleep tousled, green eyes seeming to flare in the moonlight cascading down over her barely covered body, skin cream colored and shimmering with the glittering lotion put on much earlier in the night. Little drops of spray landing on the long bare legs now and again, muscles giving little twitches in response to the chilled water. Not able to sleep, she left her room in the hotel and came down in her soft cotton bed shorts and thin tank top. Out the doors, down to the water to try and find peace for her whirling mind. Bit by bit, with long slow breaths that make her breasts rise and fall, nipples hardened by the cool moonlit air that flows about her off the water. Little eddy's that shift and curve around her form like small caresses over her body. The dark hair lifting, little pieces fluttering in the breeze as she lets the sensations become her focus. Becoming more keenly aware of each sense, the air and water droplets landing on her flesh, the darkness behind her eyes as she keeps them closed to let the floating come over her, sound of crashing waves, some softer, and some like a huge rush of sound surrounding her. She lets nature calm her thoughts, even as some come into greater focus, she thinks of the man she met earlier in the evening.
The memory of music playing in the background as she entered to ballroom of the resort. Tugging at the evening dress, uncomfortable as can be in it while she feels the tug and flow of silk over her skin. A seam brushing over her nipples to catch then move over as she walks, teetering a bit in the higher heels that she would have liked. Feeling every bit as awkward in the finery as she imagines she looks, she lets her gaze scan the room, looking for a spot to just sit with her churning nerves for awhile. Cursing herself in her head "never should have done this...my age at a singles resort" with giving herself a mental shake. She spies one chair on the other side of the room, near the terrace, a small table and single chair, she goes to beeline as best as she can over to it. Hands gripping, wrinkling the silk as she keeps the hem up higher than her toes while carrying on the mental chatter to try and calm her nerves "wouldn't due to trip...no face plants allowed..." until she finds the table and sinks down, losing balance at the end and sort of plops down ungracefully onto it.
Smoothing her hands over the dress, feeling her nails sliding over the simple silk, slippery it seems under her hands. She lets her gaze goes down to see her hands outlined against the hunter green silk, the shine of her manicure bringing a smile to her lips. A rare treat she affords herself, this one done just this afternoon, she slides her foot out to admire the pedi too, a soft toned pearl French tip on both fingers and toes making her smile. The sort of smile a woman does when not paying attention to anyone around her, no more nerves in that moment, she leans back in the chair to watch the flow of people moving through the ballroom. A wide range of colors seem to glisten under the chandelier lights, jewels sparkling in ears and around throats of the ladies, she feels that slow churning of nerves in her belly again as a hand reaches and touches her own bare throat. Self conscious again, feeling both gaudy in silk and woefully under dressed in comparison to the other women there, her hand lowers to rest, betrayed by a tiny tremble of the anxiety she feels.
Eyes closed as she lounges on the beach in the small gazebo, the swirl of memories making her shiver, her thoughts going back over the night. Humming even a bit to herself as she tries to still the anxiety churning up with the memory, focusing instead on the music and the feel of cool air on bare skin in thin cotton now. No longer in that silk, but the memory of how it felt on her skin still present, she glides a hand over her thighs as if touching the skirt of the gown. Little charged shivers come, goosebumps rising at the swirl of turning memory moving on combined with the feel of her own hands touching her soft skin.
Memories going on of the night, the sound of that deep male voice it seems so close to her ear. The breath warm on the shell, words rumbling up "dance with me if it pleases Miss?" Turning so quick, she finds herself nearly nose to nose with a tall man in the fitted charcoal gray suit, a splash of color from the ruby tie all she can make out until he stands with a soft but warm laugh. That hand held out to her as her thoughts race fast as lightening. The mental war begun in her mind "Yes... No...he doesn't mean it...you old fool...go for it...a dance wont hurt anything". Looking from his hand up to his face, sure every thought is telegraphed across her features, she chews her lower lip even as she finds her hand in his. Not even sure when that decision was made as she stands, nodding "sure...that would be nice".
A nervous smile plays across her lips as she recalls the memory, sinking deeper into it, letting it carry her as much as the waves do. The crashing of them on the beach, rolling in, then back to have another coming in overtaking it. Moving onto the dance floor in her memory as thighs brush against one another on the beach, her body's movements mimicking it seems in small ways her dancing with him. Small talk, conversation seeming to flow easily, he seems to go to great lengths to put her at ease. Tall, taller than her in the heels, she can see his chin at eye level. Looking up, getting lost in his gaze it seems, finding him behind her defenses, the nerves melting away as they dance. An effortless flow seems to come when fingers entwine as they dance, pulled close so that she could smell the light scent of his aftershave clinging to his skin. Body powerful feeling as he holds her in his arms, her own smile becoming easy and relaxed as they talk about a million things it seems. So much so that the twirl of her into a dim corner of the ballroom and his lips descending to capture hers in a kiss seems so utterly natural.
