I was the master of the board walk romance.
We walked the path of concrete lined by tall skinny palm trees along the ocean's shore. She looked out past the sandy beach. Her eyes seduced by the silvery cast of the moon over the Pacific. I held her hand, her delicate, well manicured hand, and guided her down shore. A slow walk by the ocean was the perfect way to digest our food and absorbed the ambient energy of our surroundings.
I told her that she was beautiful and that I wanted to taste her tongue on the broad walk. She didn't resist my attempts. I grabbed her face. Her soft cheeks felt slightly chilled. My fuller lips overlapped hers. She quivered from the tenderness of lips. Her body temp rose and melted away ideas of modesty. She sucked the tip of my tongue and grabbed a firm grip around my ass. I liked that. I was a hands on man.
"Wow, you are a wonderful kisser." Diane's light blue eyes smiled at me. "I'm shocked that a guy your age can be so sensual."
"How old do you think I am?"
"Gosh, a lot younger then me. How old are you?"
"Take a guess."
"Twenty three maybe?"
"I'll be thirty in three years. Did my kisses please you?"
"Oh god yes." Diane responded almost sounding embarrassed."It's been awhile since I've been kissed passionately like that."
Diane's kiss exposed her. She was a woman that lived her out of balance. She gave her life to her career and her children. She didn't have to tell me that she was a divorce mother of three. I felt it in her kiss. Saw it in her child bearing hips and the way her boot cut jeans hugged around the thickness of her thighs.
A woman like Diane spent her life in the pursuit of the American dream and forgot the joys of the treasures of this world. She forgot the beauty of a sunset. The ambience of a moon lit night. The calming sounds of the ocean and the brisk freshness of a ocean breeze. She forgot how simple gestures like a warm hand or a hot tongue could set the body on fire. I wondered how long had she walked through life without passion.
"How long has it been?"
"Gosh... How long has it been since I've been kissed or how long has it been since I've been with a man?"
"How long has it been?"
She paused to give thought about the question I just asked her. I grabbed her in my arms and buried my tongue inside her mouth again. She kissed me back with more intensity in her lips. She groaned in the night's air. People stirred around the boardwalk. We were in a perfect place.
"Six months ago." Diane blurted out slowly. "I met up with an old college friend that was in town and spent one night with him back at his hotel."
I brought fire to Diane's normally ivory cheeks. She looked flush with fever and by the intensity in her groans I knew that her face wasn't the only part of her body on fire.
"Did he make your knees weak when he kissed you?"
"No, not exactly. Nothing like how I felt after one of your kisses."
I had the right tools to be a passionate kisser. I had smooth, well portioned, top and bottom lips. They weren't thin. They weren't too juicy. They were tender from constantly being moisturized. It was an occupational hazard to have chap lips.
"How was he?"
"Definitely older then you." Diane recaptured my hand as we continued our walk. "I wasn't looking for love or even companionship that night. I had a physical need. He had a physical need. I had a familiarity with him. He mounted me on the hotel bed and gave me what i wanted it."