Whispers On The Wind A Beach Day

His text was simple. "I'll be at Mentor Headlands beach, specifically the beach near the Lighthouse. Look for a Dragon Kite, If I get it flying. LOL 😀. You've had a rough few months, take some time and just sit."

I love the beach. Something about the waves washing things away. The support of the water. The quiet rhythmic sounds of the waves. The sand in my toes and how it squishes. The sun just seems to burn brighter and more intense and then the wind.. There is something about sea wind, whether it is a lake or an ocean, it's fresher, warmer, moist, and calming.

I need the downtime.

As I drove I realized I hadn't seen him in over a year. A year... no wonder he quietly pushed to meet.

He texted, " Last parking lot, all the way down on the right. Follow the arrows." I drive in and go right but don't see any arrows.

I get there and park--so few cars. A few people are walking about, a couple jogging, some dog walkers. I gaze up at the sky looking for a dragon kite. I don't see one and wonder if he was kidding or unable to get the kite to fly.

I walked to the trailhead and started walking up the path. By the side of the path, arrows made of driftwood point to where to go. I smile; the big goof.

I'm glad it's a nice day and wonder if I should take my shoes off as the sand looks so inviting. The sun is full of glory, and the breeze is perfect. My shorts and t-shirt seem to fit the mood of a warm summer day rather than a lazy cozy September afternoon.

I continue to follow the path to the shore. The arrows point me here and there and gently lead me to the destination. I giggle and smile to myself a bit as I see over the dune a dragon kite trying to stay in the air. It rises and flutters about, then suddenly dives down. Sometimes it rises back up, other times It takes a moment or two to appear. I keep listening for any kind of sound, it has to him, right?

After a few more feet I am finally able to see where he is. He stands by the lake coaxing the kite into the air. His feet are in the water and his concentration is solely on the kite. It appears a battle of wills between him and the kite, but the kite seems intent on diving and skimming the water like a real dragon. He laughs as it dives into the water again, this time his dragon is fully submerged and must be retrieved.

I watch him as he walks into the lake. There is a strong confidence in his gait as he plows through the water to get his errant pet. It takes a lot not to laugh at the silliness of it. He acts more like a determined 9-year-old than a grown man.

He retrieves his dragon out of the water and as he trudges back to the beach he sees me. A smile appears on his face and he gazes at me.

That gaze.. It's different from what I am used to or familiar with. It just radiates confidence and warmth. I can feel his energy just boosting me. I could easily get lost in that intensity but, it's better not to.

He motions for me to look behind me and there are 2 camp chairs with a backpack sitting between them. I see him walking toward me and I meet him halfway. He smiles, says "hi!" and keeps walking to the chairs.

He places his dragon next to one of the chairs and walks over to me and gives me a hug. I am not sure what it is about his hugs. Is it his warmth, his hands as he holds me, the fullness of his body? Or it is that I can just "feel" him, the strength he gives me, and the safety I feel. There is no denying it is exciting to feel his energy surrounding me and entering my space.

In this hug though, there is an underlying spark jumping between us, a bit of hungry energy. We've had our share of spicy chats and from time to time there's been underlying sexual heat when we have met or talked. The spicy talk has led both of us to interesting alone moments of relief. He will share from time to time the moments of his inspiration and has asked me to share mine, but I'm more reserved than him. Maybe one day...

But still, something is different in this hug..

Usually, his hands wrap across my back and he places his head on my shoulder. Then he just holds me firmly. Enough strength to let me feel secure, warm, and protected but gentle enough that I feel relaxed, safe, and free.

This time, his hands move with a lazy purpose and a wandering path. One hand drifts slightly below my waist skimming across my lower back pulling me in tight. The other hand lightly traces my spine up to the opposite shoulder pulling me in tighter, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path. His head rests on my shoulder, but he is facing my neck and I can feel his beard and his breath on my skin.

I tremble a bit... Did he just kiss my neck? Was that his lips brushing my neck? Before I can think more I instinctively pull him in tighter and he matches my action.

He breaks the embrace and pulls me close again, rearranging his hands on the small of my back and placing us face to face. Our noses and foreheads touch and he just gazes into my eyes and smiles. There is that mischievous 9-year-old again.

He adjusts our hug again to our original position and I feel myself melting into him. It's comforting to feel him breathing. The rise and fall of his chest against mine. There is a familiarity there, like we've been doing this our entire lives as old lovers..

I feel myself let out a long deep breath and feel the stress leaving, his energy flooding into me. His breathing starts to match mine and our breathing syncs up; In, hold, release.

We slowly separated, though he did it far easier than I wanted to. He holds my hand and leads me over to the camp chairs and motions for me to sit. He plops down in the chair beside me and we begin to small talk. Family, work, spouses, life, and time. The conversation is easy and giggles come from both as we realize the commonalities we share and the silliness of it all.

I'm not sure when it happened but he was holding my hand. I guess I expected it as it seemed to be just natural and I went with the flow. If he hadn't reached into the backpack for a bottle of water to hand me one, I may never have noticed. It's the ease about him and how he does things for me and around me, it is just natural and not forced, full of the warmth of him..

I took the water, gave a quick smile, and took a sip. If his fingers weren't moist and cool from the water bottle, I may not have noticed as his hand gently landed on my knee. I glanced over at him, but he was looking out at the lake watching the waves slowly ebbing in and out on the sand. His hand remained on my knee, softly stroking my kneecap from time to time. The movements were soft and lazy. Sometimes I'd feel a light move from his fingers other times when his hand moved with purpose the pressure would increase. There was a playfulness about the touch and I easily got lost in the sensation.

He leaned across me to point to a mom and her toddler heading to the water and as he moved his hand slowly moved up my inner thigh. I've never been touched that lightly before. Somehow he managed to just gently brush his fingertips across my skin. Sometimes the touch was too gentle and I'd feel nothing! Only to feel his fingertips again just a few moments later. He would do lingering stops. Sometimes he just rested his hand there. Sometimes a small circle but always light, almost a tickle.

After the mom and her child passed he sat back in his chair but his hand remained to continue the journey.

I was finding it a bit difficult to control my breathing and was having trouble deciding if I should stop him. Part of me really wanted to see where he would go, how brave he was, and whether he would know where to stop. I think we both knew this was a trust test. My trust in him in knowing where to stop and his trust in me that I knew he knew where to stop and most importantly, that he was going to.

As his hand glided up my thigh he began a slow movement of lingering touches that became more intense. I let out a little gasp. As much as I didn't want to let that sign of arousal leave my body, it felt good to let it out. If he heard it, he didn't acknowledge it.

After minutes of movement, his hand stopped at the hem of my shorts. His hand lingered there a moment. Was he fighting the urge or making a decision to continue?

He stopped.

He turned and looked at me again and smiled. He looked into my eyes and I could feel my blood start to course a bit faster through my heart. I felt my face begin to blush and get warm. He kept staring, not lowering his gaze or looking elsewhere.

"What," I asked

"You are gorgeous," he replied. "I can do this all day." with that playful grin.

His eyes weren't 9 anymore. There was no trace of that kid. These eyes staring back at me were the eyes of a man who knew what he wanted and what he wanted was me.

I smiled back at him. My mind is in a fog of desire, need, and lust. It's been too long since I've been here and I can't remember how to navigate to move either in or out.

He stands up in front of me and holds out a hand to help me out of the chair. I begin to rise up and in a quick motion, he pulls me in tight. My breath stumbles a bit and my arms reach around him. He places his face close to mine and slowly moves closer to me. His lips begin to part and I begin to panic about a kiss.

Kissing. Such a simple thing but so intensely intimate.

He begins to close in on my lips, so close but not touching. He smiles and looks into my eyes. He looks down at my lips and then back at me. His hands slowly cup my face, and his thumbs trace my cheeks. His right hand slowly traces from my cheek to my jaw slowly tracing up to my ear. When he reaches my ear he slowly moves down the length of my neck to my collarbone.

I shiver, tremble and a deep sigh escapes.

He follows my collarbone from left to right with the same light touch as he did on my thigh. My face begins to flush and I wonder how much longer I can conceal my excitement. My heart is beating rapidly, I can feel my nipples begin to rise and things are starting to flow.

Yet he just stands there holding me smiling. I know he is feeling something. His breaths are deeper but everything else is in control.

His hand stopped at the top of my sternum. Again both hands cup my face and he places his lips close to mine. This time though, our lips brush. Lightly, softly. I can feel the tremble in his breath and start to realize how hard he is struggling to stay in control.

One finger on his hand begins to trace its way down my sternum, through my cleavage. His finger stopped when it reached the center of my bra. There is a slight pause, but his finger continues and begins to trace the outline of the bra cup.

Even through the material of my T-shirt, I can feel the creation of goosebumps as his finger traces my breast. Again a sigh escaped but it was almost a moan. I look at him to see if there was a reaction, but he is concentrating on the motion of his hand and fingers. Another gasp leaves my throat as he traces his way across my breast. My nipple rises to meet his fingers and as his fingers pass over in succession, his thumb passes and gives a light pinch. Again a moan, and I don't care if he heard.

I pull him in tight to hug him to slow the motions of his hands. He expected this as he maneuvered his leg between my thighs. I unknowingly push my pelvis against him with my hug. A moan escapes me, with a hint of surprise, desire, and relief.

His hands cup the cheeks of my butt and he pulls me up and closer. His head rests on my shoulder and I can feel the pulse of excitement running through his body. The heat of his breath on my neck and at times the breath laps up into my ear. I press down on his leg with my pelvis seeking anything to quench my thoughts and bring relief

We stood like that for a long time. Just stood. No movement. Our hold on each other is precise in strength. Our breathing matches the in and outs, the ups and down.

I feel a sense of calm that begins to emanate from him. His calm penetrates me, soothes those needs, and replenishes my soul, my heart, and my being.

For longer still, we just stand there intertwined. My weight begins to shift back to my own feet and I feel him begin to relax and straighten.

He pulls his head off my shoulder and looks me in the eyes. There is no 9-year-old there, nor a man with needs. This man's eyes radiate with love, warmth, and with understanding. He brings his face to me again; nose to nose, forehead to forehead.

His hands cup my face as he reaches up and kisses my forehead.

He then slowly holds both my hands and leads me on a walk.

"That was nice"... he says as he smiles.

I just gaze at him and use my smile as my reply.

The rest of the afternoon was spent walking to the lighthouse, wading in the surf, and playing with his kite.

Eventually, we walked back to our cars.

We hugged at my car and as before he filled me with more of his care. His kiss on my forehead was a new twist and something I returned back to him.