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Her quick dip was barely enough to wet her hair, and she proceeded to quickly dry herself with a small towel from the side pocket of her bag. I continued to watch as she rubbed her skin pink, and then replaced her top and skirt slowly. Glancing once more to the sea, and never once in my direction, she then proceeded to climb up the rocks on her side of the beach and jangled off into the evening. Wow, what a moment. I lay still, remaining low until she was well gone, and natural sounds returned. One sound remained however, the rushing sound of blood in my ears as my heartbeat raced, out of tempo with the calm beautiful night. I rolled over onto my back, and glanced down at the wet sticky patch in my shorts, closed my eyes and smiled. My libido was re-awakened and it felt good. I returned home after briefly recovering my composure, and headed straight for the shower, dropping my shorts into the laundry basket as I entered the bathroom. Standing under the hot needling jets of water, I. The shirt stayed on the ground and the show went on for her. She studied him as a butcher appraises a slab of finely marbled meat; watching bone and flesh dance before her. She wagered a guess as to how all that taught muscle would feel crushing down upon her; how that strong chin would feel gnawing her neck; how those two powerful hands with their elongated fingers would feel pawing her body and groping her breasts, her buttocks, her sex. He was power, he was strength, he was youth, and he was "next" on her list. She rose to her feet, kicked off her heels, and dove in the pool for an ostensibly cooling dip. The eyes of the black youth witnessed the whole performance behind dark glasses of his own as he pretended to work. The dance had begun. She swam to his end of the pool then back to her starting point. She pushed herself up out of the water; hoisting herself up onto the concrete deck with two weight-trained arms. As her ass cleared the water she hovered a bit as though she were.
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