We decided to call it a day as the sun edged closer to the horizon. The sky - and the sea that seemed to stretch endlessly toward it - both began turning a radiant orange.
We had been so lucky to score this private retreat for the weekend. Just a simple, open-air villa on the beach. We had spent the day walking, lazing in the sun, nibbling on fruit and sipping frozen drinks.
There was no one else around for miles and miles. We had the entire beach to ourselves for as far as the eye could see. I had even talked you into going topless for the afternoon. After considering it for a moment, you'd looked up and down the beach to be sure we were really alone, and then you'd whipped off your top with an oh-what-the-hell flair. We had played in the sand and the surf for the rest of the day, giggling, splashing, flirting, teasing.
As we gathered our things to go, you tied the sarong you'd worn this morning back around your waist. Much to my delight, you made no move to put your top back on. Still, I joked, "Not getting modest, are you?" But what I was really saying was how fantastic you looked at that moment, how very tropic and sexy.
A breeze had begun to blow in off the water, a warm, soft wind that made the fabric dance around your legs. It created such a gorgeous vision - you, your sun-kissed smile, your hair blown aside, topless and proud and confident, the swirling fabric, the orange glow of the sea and the sky. I was entranced.
The breeze picked up as we sauntered back to the villa, but it was still warm. "Oh, that feels so good", you said. "Yes, it does," I agreed, and though the swirling air wasn't cold, it was having a noticeable effect on your topless condition. "It's still a bit nipply, though," I ventured jokingly. You quickly covered yourself with your hands, gave my side a playful jab with your elbow, and protested, "Hey!"
But then just as quickly, you seemed to remember the abandon we could enjoy in our privacy and the freedom you could enjoy with me. You stepped away, turned and faced me, and looked right into my eyes with a daring expression.
"Well, now, let's see," you teased. Then you changed the position of your hands, slowly and deliberately, moving them from a position of coy modesty to one much more overtly seductive. Still watching my eyes, your thumbs and forefingers found just the right spots to pinch and to roll.
My eyes just couldn't stay locked with yours. They wandered down, enjoying the show you were so boldly putting on for me. Seeing the obvious pleasure in my expression, you said, "It seems you're right. It IS a bit nipply!"
Then you smiled and bit your lower lip, your eyes lit up with a mischievous notion, and you ran off toward the door. "Whatever can we do about that?" you called back over your shoulder.
The doors to the villa aren't closed. They are wide open - as were all the windows. In fact, there are more windows than there are walls surrounding us. That same warm breeze pours through the place, bringing the sweet scent of the ocean in with it.
We reach for each other as we bound inside, embracing, our lips finding one another's. Your lips taste of salt, kiwi, pineapple. It is delicious, tasting your lips. Our mouths open, our tongues embracing just as our bodies are. My hands glide across your shoulders. "You need lotion," I say as a guide you to the huge bed awaiting us. "Lie down there".
You stretch yourself across the cool linen sheets, face down. I start with your neck, your shoulders, pouring generous amounts of lotion on to my hands, warming it, and then letting those hands wander over your skin. I work my way down your back, more lotion, and your skin just drinks it in.
You sigh in relaxation, feeling the effects of the day's sun, the rum, and the waves all coming together beneath the touch of my hands. The sarong comes off and I move down to your feet. Still more lotion, not at all sparingly, massaging it into your toes, soles, heels, ankles. I move up, soothing the skin and kneading the muscles of your calves, your thighs.
The bikini bottoms are all that remain. I tug at their sides. You hum in approval as if you're savoring the aroma before the first bite, and lift your hips. I begin to slide the suit down, hands gliding across the sides of your legs as I go. And then they're gone.
Beneath you, your naked body savors the cool, crisp feel of the sheets. Above you, my hands, more lotion on them now, caress the curves of your hips, the rise and fall of the curves behind you. You feel yourself stirring now, anticipating my touch.
A single finger glides down the center of your back, down, down. It moves slowly to the small of your back and wanders there for a moment, exploring your sensitivities.
Then down it goes again, dividing the crevice it finds there. Down further still, further still, until you feel a brush of fingertips that move like they're caressing the petals of a rose. Your heart begins to race, you begin to moisten, and swell.