Hidden In Plain View

It was quite the place for a young man to spend the summer. The beaches, the bars and restaurants, and most of all the girls, in the process of becoming women.

She was becoming a woman. We were all still boys.

It’s not that I underestimated her; I just wasn’t paying attention. I really wasn’t interested in her at first.

Oh she was cute enough. But right at the beginning I was told she was “Miss Wholesome”. Proud of being a virgin. The virgin with the goddess’ figure.

Early after my arrival, it was Faye who caught my attention … what with her Southern accent, long dark hair and charming, disarming smile. Until she left for home. And then I hooked up with the Party Girl. She was fun, but much too skinny for what my 21-year old body wanted. So my friend from home and I switched playmates. That’s the only time I’ve done that, but I thought it worked out pretty well at the time. No muss … no fuss.

I had no idea she was closely watching with those hazel eyes and evaluating the whole time.

When she decided she wanted me though, she made certain I saw her every day in her bikini in the surf. It was quite a sight. Even to his day, every time I see a beach scene or the surf pounding, I picture her running through the waves, long loping strides, her tits bouncing and craving escape. And she never missed a night of drinking if she knew I’d be there. Eventually she caught my attention. And my focus.

When we were in the bar or back at my apartment, I loved the way she wrapped her arm around my thigh. No one had ever done that before. Or since. She was the only one. A signature move if ever there were one. We would sit sometimes for hours like that, downing our beers. When we were like that, I knew I would be the one to ruin her good girl image.  I knew she wanted me to. It was the first time I ever could feel and be so sure of something like that. That I knew exactly which way she was headed. And why.

Once we started, we were inseparable. I guess all young love is that way. But I had made my mind up I wouldn’t be falling in love. There would be too much distance, too many restrictions, too many complications.

But someone had a different idea.

I Guess I Exceed Expectations

Cassandra and I were chatting the other night about the days spent when we first met in person a few months ago. How surprised she had been at the number of times and the intensity of her squirting. She was not expecting that.

I didn’t walk until I was 18 months old. I had never even taken a step when one evening, my parents were entertaining, and I was playing on the floor in the center of the living room. My mom and dad were apparently lamenting to their guests my lack of mobility progress. And wouldn’t you know it, as if to prove them liars, I proceeded to stand up, and run across the room into the arms of my very surprised mother

I guess I’ve always liked being low key and unexpectedly exceeding the expectations of women important in my life.

Sea Waves [VII] Cassandra Visits … Aftermath

This is the conclusion of the posts on Cassandra’s first visit. If you are a new reader or have forgotten, you can review what has happened here: Sea Waves [1]; Sea Waves [II]; Sea Waves [III]; Sea Waves [IV]; Sea Waves [V]; Sea Waves [VI]

We headed to the airport after a visit of almost three days. We sped along the highway quickly. Traffic was sparse.

We were very comfortable together, as if nothing had ever changed from all the time we had known each other. But the truth was, so much had changed. For each of us going into this first time together, we had made sure our expectations had been kept in check. We had never met. While we knew we were incredibly close, we also were under no illusions. Our closeness was all virtual, with telephone calls thrown in to heat up the mix. Over our 21 months of contact we had had squabbles. Some had lasted months. But even in the midst of those travails, something always remained. Something was always there. We always would come back. Why? I don’t think either of us knew (or know) why. We just did. We had to. It was never an option not to.

As we drove we talked. We touched. Touching had been so much a part of what we had shared these past three days. So much a part of what we had needed from the other. To be touched and held. So much a part of what bonded us.

There was no sadness attached to the visit’s ending. Quite the contrary. We both were on stratospheric highs. A high induced by the presence of the other. No imminent flight departure could negatively impact that oneness we felt. There would be no Distance that would keep our hearts separated. There was no Other Time.

We arrived at the airport with time to spare. Deciding to sit in my car in the parking garage, we bathed in the emotion that enveloped us. At one time she had sought out a new lover because of her need for passion. She had never connected me to that feeling. I had never understood why not. Now she admitted oh how blind she had been. She had never felt the passion more.

Prior to her coming, there had been trepidation about the sex. There would probably be none. If there were any, there would not be much and it likely would not be that great. I reminded her of a comment she had made while we were on the phone one evening last autumn. A text had just come in from one of her former lovers. The lover where the pure sex had been the greatest of her life. The text had set her mind awhirl, and she quite directly told me in that call to not ever think, should we one day get together, that the sex between us could ever approach what she had had with this man. At the time, that had dramatically saddened me. Cassandra is a highly sexual woman. Sex would always play a heavy role in any relationship with her. I wasn’t sure what to think. What to say. What to do. In the end I decided it could not be a competition; I would have to be myself and trust that would be enough. It was. It is. Cassandra had never been so sexually satisfied. Been so passionate. Been so sensual.

As we sat we knew we would be together a long, long time. A couple. One for the other. Committed. For as long as the waves rolled in.

 

 

 

Midweek Fantasizing (IV)

We were texting early this evening and I was complaining that I had to find the energy to head out the door and go to the gym for a second workout of the day. I wasn’t really looking forward to it.

Her : Be much more fun to get in bed with me

That brought an immediate flood of high octane memories surging through my brain. Our three days together and the impact it had on us both

Me: Yes it would! I’m a lot more eager for that. I really want to see your beautiful face up close. See you nod your head and beg “Yes. More. Please!”

Her: Mmmm. Yes please

Me: That was soooo good wasn’t it, Baby?

Her: Best ever. The very best ever

 

Sea Waves [VI] – Words and Scenes

I apologize to you, my poor readers. This has been so drawn out. The truth is that I have been so overwhelmed with everything that happened over those three days that I have not been able to organize, prioritize, and itemize all that transpired. And so I have given up!

Rather I have decided to give you a stream of consciousness view of my memory from that incredible meeting.  These thoughts will bear no relation to order of time, nor impact.

In case you have forgotten here are the preludes leading up to Cassandra’s visit Sea Waves [I]  Sea Waves [II]  Sea Waves [III]   Sea Waves [IV] and  Sea Waves [V]

Here goes:

Initial kissing and cuddling. Hands touching, squeezing, caressing. Bodies writhing. Clothing discarded. Naked closeness. No time for breathing. Massage. Wonderful taste as lips, tongue, mouth, and fingers meet pussy.  Sighs and coos. Arches, moans, more, time stands still.

Legs spread, draped over shoulders as lips touch, eyes meet and love is made.

French bistro lunch.  Worlds meet. Time fades. Orgasms, loud, will they hear next door?, touching, more touching, touching for hours, Greek dinner, mouth in a perfect O , part “oh” part gasp, part grunt; hours and hours of continuous orgasms, insatiability, begging, hand around slender neck, kneeling on the edge of the bed hands held behind her back, cock thrusting, watching reflection in picture over the bed, cupping pussy, fingers deep, hand so deep, gagging on cock, coma, eyes rolled back, wanting more, nodding yes, too weak to talk but still wanting more …

I will leave you with this scene. It was our last time in bed together, from mid morning to early afternoon.

“Baby, are you alright?”

She lay there. On her back, eyes wide, chin drooping. About 30 seconds later, her face turned to me and she softly whispered …

“What Baby? What did you say?”

At that exact moment, I knew she would never forget me. Even should she never remember the state her mind was in half a minute before, I knew she would never forget this. Though her cognizant mind may have been absent for a tiny block of time, her subconscious had totally absorbed all that was happening and had happened. Her total being was caught up in the sensations she had been experiencing for the past 3 1/2 hours. Her pleasure zones were close to overloading. They had even now overwhelmed her state of consciousness.

I have been with many women. And most loved sex. Many craved a lot of sex. But Cassandra is different. Very different. What exactly does “sexually insatiable” mean anyway? I now understand. Now I have seen it. Over 3 days we had several multi-hour sessions in bed. With my cock, with my mouth, with my hand, with my fingers, with my touch, with my voice, with her vibrator she orgasmed above me, beside me, and under me. I watched her ever so closely, her beautiful face contorting. I pressed closely as she writhed and arched, felt her body as she first shuddered, then shook, then quaked as the outbound energy roar surged through her entire body. Then the gush. Only to leave her whimpering and utterly spent.

For a few seconds only … as the force regathered and began its rush to another climax. This to be repeated for hours, the onslaught broken only by a few minutes of tender after care. My whispers, my touch, my hand cupping her tender pussy until I start with my fingers again.

“Can you cum again for me, Baby?”

Her eyelids heavy, she has strength only to nod slightly. And the tide rolls in, the waves begin to crash from within her again. . . and another hour of pleasuring begins…

“OHHHHH … OHHhhh … Ohhhhh … ohhhhh.”

 

 

 

 

 

Sea Waves [IV] Cassandra Visits and Addressing the “Nevers”

This is the next posting about Cassandra’s visit. If you need to refresh your memory go to Sea Waves [I], Sea Waves [II], and Sea Waves [III]

Cassandra had arrived!

I’m here. I’m in the room. Just set my stuff down. There is a flower! Marty. I came to see you

I knew she had as I had followed her flight and saw it had landed right on time. But because of previous unavoidable commitments I was going to be unable to see her until the next morning. I had prebooked a room at the airport for her since her flight was so late to arrive. I wasn’t very happy about it, but Cassandra fully understood and soothed my feelings about it, reassuring me it would only help build the excitement. Of course, she was correct. I barely slept that night.

Early the next morning as I prepared, I noticed how often I stopped breathing. I think this is an automatic calming system I have. Otherwise I tend to go into excitement overdrive, and that is definitely a no-no.

As I drove out to the airport my mind wandered. I desperately tried to focus, but the adrenaline rush was frustratingly blocking my mind’s ability to concentrate.

Here’s probably a good time to interject this minor factoid:

Cassandra and I had never met! For real. In person.

Yes, we were one of those on-line couples, who had carried on a relationship comprised of 1s and 0s, and the occasional telephone conversation. You could most definitely term us internet lovers and the one fact remained … we had never met … never touched each other. Never felt the other’s breath on our skin. Never whispered in the other’s ear. Never sensed that emotional vibration through physical presence.

As I approached the hotel my heart began to flutter. Parking the car, I again tried to settle myself down. I shut down the engine and noticed, once again, I wasn’t breathing. I quickly walked to the hotel lobby and hit the up button for the elevator. Right then I began to notice a change. My nervousness had disappeared. I felt almost … serene.

One other little thing I should mention. There is a significant age difference between Cassandra and me. Now, I am partial to younger women, I confess. Much younger. But with Cassandra, I am pushing the age difference envelope way out there. It’s a factor.  How big a factor this would really be, I was about to discover..

The elevator doors opened on her floor and I headed down to the end of the hall to her room. Though I had a key, I knocked. I was ready for the next wave. It promised to be a big one

I didn’t have long to wait.

 

 

It’s Been 4 Years

It’s almost 4 years since I first met you. It is difficult to believe it has been that long. But I remember as if it were yesterday.

We were in a group doing warm up exercises. I had just joined and you were to my left. Quite literally, my jaw dropped. You were stunning! I had not seen such beauty close up in so long. With your raven hair pony-tailed, your radiant face was open for my eyes to feast. Feast they did. From your bedazzling smile to your firm athletic legs. I was instantly mesmerized. And I remain so.

It took us more than a year to draw closely together. We have had our ebbs and flows but I still feel very close. And I want more

 

 

 

Seducing Annie (III)

See Part (I) here and Part (II) here.

The sun was quite hot for mid June where the convention had taken place. But I reveled in it as I headed out the hotel lobby’s entrance. Down the quiet road I went, easing into it as I felt my muscles begin to loosen and my head to further clear. I picked up the pace as the road to the hotel met the main 2-lane highway. At the intersection I turned north and stayed on the pavement, as despite being a highway, it was deserted of traffic.It was going to be a good workout. The rolling hills I saw up ahead were sure going to drain last night’s alcohol out of my system. After about 3/4 of a mile of slowly increasing the pace I bore down and picked it up a significant notch hitting a good tempo pace. The sweat was beginning to cascade off my face and I could feel every part of my body adjusting to the quickening rhythm.

Up in the distance I could see a few houses coming into view at the top of a rise. I was getting close to the village. I was looking forward to getting there and maybe grabbing a drink. Behind me I could hear what sounded like a sporty-type car approaching … fast. I could hear the driver gearing down as it slowed and then pulled off to the shoulder on the other side of the road. Out from the driver’s seat popped a smiling Annie! God she looked so hot!

“I thought I would come out and see if you needed a drink” she said as she held out a cool water bottle.

“Yes, thank you, I would” I gasped as I took the bottle. We chatted for a bit and then she offered to drive into the village and give me a mini tour.

“Sure” I said. “Sounds like fun”. I couldn’t believe my luck. This very cute woman with such a fabulous, sexy accent was trying to hustle me. What could be better?

After the tour and a little more chit chat she drove me back to the spot where she had met me.

“I’ll drive you back to the hotel, if you’d like,” she offered.

“No, no thank you. I’d better finish my run. I need it”.

We sat there awkwardly for several seconds. Neither venturing to take the next step.

Then, Annie pounced. “How would you like a tour of the city this evening? No one knows it like a local. I will show you all the sights.” I could see her dark brown eyes sparkle when she said this. And did her nipples just harden? Or were they they always like that and I just hadn’t noticed? Nope. I would have definitely noticed.

“That’s a wonderful idea. I accept. Under one condition.”

“What’s that?” she asked raising her right eyebrow.

“That you let me buy you dinner first. And you choose where.”

“It’ a deal” she replied. “I’ll pick you up in the lobby at 7”.

With that she and her beautiful nipples jumped back into the roadster and roared off. Leaving a very happy road runner in her wake. I was developing a semi.

Seducing Annie (II)

See Part I here

I awoke around noon. It was Friday and the convention was over but I had arranged to stay an extra day to relax. After a quick lunch, I headed poolside for a brief swim and for some rays for my badly hung over and tired body.. After my dip I stretched out on the chaise and relaxed in the warm sunshine. Probably a half hour or so later I awoke from a  light nap and heard some women chatting in the pool. As I casually opened my eyes, I immediately saw it was the cutie from the night before talking with a friend in the water. “Ah, yes” I remembered. Her name was Annie. Almost in the same instant she gave me a smile from the water and swam over to the edge of the pool nearest me. She was wearing a black one piece, but her tits were just perfect. 36c for sure. Full, round, and tight.

In her language she asked “So, are you quite recovered from this morning? I didn’t think I’d see you so early”.

Pretty much tongue-tied I smiled back wanly. “Oh, I’m ok. A little tired. How are you?”

“I’m fine” she replied. “It’s my day off. But you don’t look so good” she said with a wink.

We chatted some more. The words from both of us began to come more easily. She definitely was enjoying our conversation. I mentioned that I was going for a run to clear my had a little later … maybe 5 or 6 miles. Annie told me the small cute village up the road from the hotel was just about 3 miles.

“Great”, I said. “There and back will be perfect.”

And with that she said good bye and swam off to be again with her friend. I grabbed my towel, headed back to the room to change into my running gear.

See Part III here

Seducing Annie (1)

I was recently thinking fondly about Annie, a past lover. I met Annie many years ago at a convention where English was not readily spoken. Several of my colleagues and I were out on the town very late, and as we returned to the hotel, walking past the front desk, I noticed this very attractive woman behind the counter. She was smiling at us as we passed.

I stopped in my tracks, arrested by her beauty. Brunette with short hair, roundish face, dark eyes, a beauty spot on her lower cheek, and sumptuous figure.  In my less than perfect foreign language I began, aided by 7 or 8 drinks in my belly, the flirtation. My colleagues bid me good night and, with a chuckle, good luck.

Each time I ventured with a new verbal advance, she smiled sweetly, parried and shook her head. After 2 hours, even to my muddled brain, I was getting nowhere. Beyond being her late night entertainment of course.

But the dance continued. Never say I give up easily. Then, precisely at 7:03 am, she smiled once more, said good-bye, and up and left. It was time to go home.

It was time for me to go to bed.