The smell of cool, gentle air with a hint of salt and a subtle under tone of the sun is uplifting as I sit on the balcony looking over the beach on a Tuesday morning. I sit one the edge of my Oak stool painting the coast line of the French Riviera with my brush in shades of blue, grey, red and yellow. Fond memories they were for Isaeria and I.
The ocean breezes hit against our faces aboard the yacht shared with a few other couples who probably have fond memories of their own. The picture perfect memories hangs in the distant memory the same as the many paintings we have seen in art galleries of Paris.
If the City of Lights known for romance and honeymooners could speak, it would have endless tales of hearts melted with joy similar to the cheese and chocolate fondue that make the taste buds moan with pleasure. But it is not all smiles and laughter in this old city of masterpieces. There are also the scattered pieces of broken hearts that fill the land without end. As they say, "C'est la vie."
France is not the only place of Monet, Renoir and art that paints a reflection of life. There were also memories made on this beach too. I look at the sea gulls flying about and the waves washing upon the soft sand that covers the foot prints she and I had made. The night strolls we had were as soft and tender as her skin.
We would walk as far away from the life guard as we could and then roll in the sand laughing and kissing passionately without a single care in this chaotic and crazy world that we live in full of contradictions, poetic justice and serene landscape that takes people's breaths away. I look up at the light, blue sky with puffy, white clouds floating by thinking back on those lovely days we had building sand castles and digging for sea shells as we hear the waves crash against the rocks off in the distance. Then all of a sudden, the wind felt colder and the light drops of rain could be felt on my light, tan skin. It was time to go back inside before Nature splashes the painting to make it look as if Monet met Picasso and left with blood on their hands.
I lay down to rest knowing that rainy days make me sleepy. My mind drifted off remembering the wonderful times we had as I lay there and stare at the hand painted ceiling of the sparkling piano with Liberace smiling away at the keys. The previous owner was an artist with a passion for music. Ever since his accident in the kitchen with a knife that damaged the nerves on one of his hands, he had been unable to play again so he decided to draw for a living.
Usually it was depicting music in some form of way or another. He sure knew a great deal about many famous musicians around the world. Liberace was one of them obviously. The house looks like a mosaic of paintings splattered across the walls and ceilings.
Isaeria loved the hallway showing Mozart dancing around the hardwood floor as Tchaikovsky stood at the podium to conduct the orchestra with one hand on the back of his head and the other holding the stick. Beethoven looked as if he had a bad hair day on the grand piano and Yo Yo Ma was in the front row passionately playing his cello. Count Basie bending back a bit playing his saxophone at one end of the wall as Louis Armstrong blows his trumpet on the other side. Cab Calloway throwing up Jazz hands standing next to Luciano Pavarotti with his mouth open singing to the sky. Niccolò Paganini plays the violin next to a disturbed looking Chopin at the keys of dark, upright piano. Above them were scattered, puffy clouds with muses that stood and laid upon them showing interest to the musicians below. It is amazing that he did not turn the house into a small museum.
Isaeria was full of color and life to say the least. She always brought a smile to my face. I hope she is doing well and bringing smiles to someone's face. It would be nice to know where she went all of a sudden without any note. I had questions that ran through my mind for a while, but did not persue in a quest for answers. Rather than wondering where she has been and why she had disappeared out of the blue, I think about the good times we had. Good would be an under statement in the bedroom. Ahh yes. I remember it as if it was yesterday.
She laid on the bed in her natural beauty as I admire all the curves, bumps and lines of her body with my gentle lips. Oh those lovely pair of peaches were delightful to indulge on. How she enjoyed my tongue relishing her tips and sucking lightly at her handful of softness. I have kissed her belly, the side of her ticklish waist, up and down her legs, breathing heavily on her special spot to tease her, but never touching the soft mound. She would be wet by the time I kiss her feet. Then I have her turn over to be on her knees, tie her hands with satin and sometimes with furry handcuffs to the head board of the bed and then blindfold her eyes with a regal blue, satin fabric.
When she was in position, I kiss her all over again from her lovely twins to her shoulders, up and down her spine, kissing and massaging her bountiful cheeks and sometimes spanking them. I run my finger down the middle line making her more aroused. It was easy to see how dripping wet she was waiting to be fulfilled. Then I insert a slender tool about six inches long into her back door making her whimper. I turn it on for a few seconds and then turn it off making her moan in excitement. Then I kiss in between her legs from the thighs working my way up to her most sensitive spot. My tongue drove her wild for a few minutes before I have stopped to turn the vibration on again for ten seconds. Now it is time for her to kiss me.
I position myself to lay under her head so that she could kiss my member easily.
"Isaeria my love, I want you to savor my softness until it becomes hard. You do want the hard attention of my manhood, don't you?"
She did not hesitate to kiss my jewels and take in my soft fruit in her mouth indulging on it with much joy. She twirled her tongue all around it and the tip making me feel great to say the least.
"Ooohh... Yes. Aahhh... Oooohh... You make me feel so good my sweet. It is obvious you want to be fulfilled by my thick and hearty manhood. Oooohh... Yes, the tip. Aahhhh... Indulge my dear Isaeria."
After letting her feasting on my member for about ten minutes, I have removed myself from under her and ran my hands all over her body.
"I love how soft and silky your body feels my love. Do you enjoy me admiring it in different ways?"
She moaned and said, "Yes. Yes I do. I love how you touch me, kiss me and ..."
She whimpered some more and that aroused me.
I then asked her, "Which condom would you like? The ribbed one, the smooth and thin one or the French tickler?"
