So, here I am.”Her hand had never left mine. There was one of those moments that don’t happen in real life as often as they do in stories. We just sat looking at each other and then she stood, still holding my hand and I stood too and we walked together through the garden to the heavy mahogany staircase which we climbed side by side, no words, until we reached her floor and I expected her to kiss me goodnight but instead she held my hand tighter and led me to her room. Inside, she kissed me.“I’ve been wanting to do that all night. I knew you were watching me.” I didn’t deny it. She kissed me again and this time it last, lingered and her hand came to my breast, my nipples hard against the silk. She lifted her long necklace so it went over and behind my head which felt curiously like some form of bondage, the best form, the sexiest form and our kiss resumed, her hand pulling my camisole from my skirt and sliding beneath it first to cup my tit then to roll my aching nipple between her. Super tubes was one of the spots made famous by the movie, Endless summer and she always wanted to build her dream house right there. When the property became available, she jumped at the opportunity and a year later moved in. On this day, she crawled out of bed after her afternoon siesta and pulled a t-shirt over her head. Stepping onto the balcony, she could see surfers waxing their boards and swimming out to the back breakers. Before long, they were catching the waves that broke in perfect formation. There was something therapeutic about watching the young men catching the waves, trying to outdo each other with spectacular moves just to swim back out again to repeat the process. When the sun had finally set in the west the last of the surfers came out and started rinsing off under the showers on the beach. Stripping of their wetsuits their lean, tanned muscles played under their smooth skin as they washed the salt and sand off their bodies. Not an ounce of fat was to be.
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