Intense heat, feelingas warm licks, on my back, sensously stroking me to sleep. Through my jeans I feel massaged, hot, yet comforting. Wind blowing gently cools the fevered lip, slightly moist. I'm off to faraway lands where days are longer than nights and working is to relax. These places I visit, full of silence and demour ladies, have a connection in my heart. It is the call of the sea, the whispers from the sand and the echoing reply from within the conch. Sway with me in netted hammocks, sip with me, from half eaten coconut shells, paradise juices. Wandering and wondering are the days schedule. Will I have enough time for a laze on the deck?
Lifes choices consist of an unspoken discussion in yourselfs mind as to the theme of todays attire. Should I go for the black plunged bikini or wait a while longer for that deepened tan? Will the blue flowered shorts make my legs look pasty? Shall I take the sarong or the beach dress... Oh so many decisions. I walk through the heat feeling, as the weather, kinda hazy. Acknowledging busying people rushing with no time for ones self, walking at a trot with feelings of unfinished lives, something more to do tomorrow. For a moment I feel selfish, but it was just a fleeting one, Why should I? I worked hard
So further along the walkway, I'm barely strolling, my leather flip flops hardly being worn making a slip slap sound that reminds me of a metronome. I descend the seven rough wooden steps to the fine golden sands, walk out toward the sea, then stop. I'm here. My spot.
Looking from left to right I find, as usual, nobody around. Here I am 3.30pm, the entire world still caught up in the humdrum of daily life. Behind me can see the little wooden huts. One, Two... Third from the left, slightly back from the rest is mine, plants all around the small balconette, hammock gently swaying in the coastal breeze. I allow the knot to come loose from my sarong and it falls silently to the white warm sand. I pick up each foot slowly, allowing sand to caress my toes. My heart bursts as I love the place, the feel, the scenery and the smell. The sounds are alluring yet the peace is so inviting.
I sit knees bent, gazing out to sea, circling motions with my fingers, caressing the crystals by my sides which lure me so much. I'm here, the closest to paradise I can get, the warmth, the heat feeling yet again so intense. I close my eyes and lean my head back, surrendering my face to the sun. It feels every contour, every inch. It etches out every corner and caresses every curve of my body. Nothing is left untouched.
Despite the heat I shiver slightly.... tremble
"You can't be cold?" I heard him say. I don't allow myself to open my eyes, yet I smile
"No, it's the wonderment of it all, the stillness, yet the excitement it brings, meeting as one"
I laze back to a reclining poseand turn my head to the side. Slowly opening my eyes I allow myself to steal a glance. Yes there they are, the same bare feet and powerful calves, crouched in position, just beyond my hair, cornered in my eye. The breeze has picked up the fresh, clean, newly showered smell of masculinity which is breathed deeply within me. Still I can't bear to look further, I do not dare to hope that I can gaze up to identify this form of hope, the one distraction from natures sheer beauty. So like before I close my eyes, smile within myself and allow the smile to spread across my face. My eyes crinklein amusement and my inner sense assures me I am mirroring the face of the anonymous visitor.
I hear his chuckle grow fainter as he continues on his way, like so many times before, until I sense I am again alone....at one. The intense heat beating down over my body... lulling me, caressing me and giving me that sense of peace I seek.
Stretching languidly I relish from the rest. The cooler air chilling off the flush in my cheeks. I slowly open my eyes, daring to look. Yes, here I still lie, hand splayed beside me in the grass, body clothed from a hard days shopping, lying on my sunbed in the garden, trying to iron out the week I've just ended and cooling down for the weekend, ready to start in the rat race of life on Monday morning, 9am sharp. Maybe next week I will sneak a peak at his face...... or maybe not eh?
© Copyright 2016 Moodle. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Romance
Poem / Humor
Poem / Humor
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