I sat on the balcony of my beach house, enjoying the cool evening breeze. It was late but I couldn't sleep. He had been on my mind all day, and I was holding on to hope that I would soon see his silhouette in the moonlight. Goosebumps crawled across my skin, but not from the cool air. Just the idea of his hands on my hot skin made me squirm in my bed almost every night.
I met him at the beginning of this summer, walking by me on the beach down from my house. I was writing in a notebook perched on my lap when he and a few other people happened by me. I had glanced up for familiar faces; finding none, I went back to my writing. He slowed his pace and leaned over me, saying "good morning." I glanced up again. A baseball cap sat backwards over his longish light brown hair and sunglasses covered his eyes. He was tan, slender and muscular with tattoos visible on each arm under his gray t-shirt. But it was his mischievous grin that I had locked my eyes onto. Sexy. I wanted to see him again.
Those were the days, I thought to myself. The innocent days when we didn't know anything about each other. Sitting here on my balcony on this quiet evening, I replayed this summer in my head, often wondering how I got here.
I was in my early thirties, a freelance writer and photographer from San Francisco. I'm not thin but I would say I was in shape. Long brown hair, large breasts and a nice ass. I married young, my husband an executive of a large corporation. The romance fizzled out early on, but we made it work. I was by his side when required and vice versa, but we left each other alone these days. He could have been fucking his young secretary right that moment for all I knew, or cared. Our lives were how we wanted them. Well, until I met Jack.
I had spent the last few summers alone in our beach house to escape the city and find some new faces. I began to frequent the beaches more this summer to find him again and see if there was any interest. I had a few lovers every summer, but Jack seems like a goal for me. I ran into him about every other day; we would say hi and sometimes have short conversations. He was my age, manager of a sporting good store in town. He also had a much younger girlfriend who was rarely brought up in conversation. When he was on the beach alone, however, he would sit with me for a time and even had a beer with me one evening. We talked about sex and his interest in my photography. I showed him some topless photos of myself on my laptop and he asked to see them in person. He showed me a video on his phone of his girlfriend giving him a blow job; I said I could do better. So, below the balcony of my beach house that night he had each of my breasts in his hands, his tongue swirling around my hard nipples, and I had every inch of his hard cock down my throat, swallowing every drop of his hot cum. We both wanted more and he swore one of these nights he would be back.
I could feel his strong hands in my hair again as I look past the balcony rails for a glimpse of him. Jack. I smiled. I've had a handful of boy toys over the past few years but this one was different. Only one other man made me want more after our first encounter and that "relationship" didn't work out. But it gave me a taste of something missing from my life I needed to replace, and Jack could be that man.
I caught sight of a person walking down the beach in the moonlight. Dark shirt, jean shorts, wavy hair. Check. Tonight was the night. My pussy was so wet I could feel my juices running down my cheeks into my black lace panties. I sat up in the lounge chair so he could see me as he approached. He stopped when he saw me and put both hands in his back pockets as I left my chair to lean over the rail. I smiled at him. He smiled back.
"Nice night for a stroll on the beach," I commented.
"Yes I agree," he laughed a little. "I would ask you to join me but I have other plans."
"Oh really?" I asked playfully. "Would you like to come inside and tell me about those plans?"
"Hmm, no," he replied, "but I'll show you."
I smiled and turned from the rail to walk through my bedroom and downstairs to meet him at the patio door. I offered him a drink as I led him through my kitchen; he declined. I guided him up the stairs to my room, unbuttoning the oversized white shirt I wore as we entered my bedroom. I left the balcony doors open so the moon shone like a spotlight across the canopy bed, the only light in the room.
