Beautiful view, he said to himself.
He drove over the causeway onto Marco Island, looking around the curves of the southern Florida location that was a winter home for millionaires. He was one of them now, but he didn't feel like he was.
The sun shone and the breeze off the Gulf of Mexico cooled his face as he drove his convertible. He thought about the 80-100 hour weeks of his last decade, and hoped it had been worth it. He wasn't retired; far from it. But he was now able to actually, relax.
And feel her body.
She was here, somewhere. Waiting for him. They'd been online friends for more than a decade, but had never met. They'd met over a mutual interest in erotic art and literature (during his 80-hour weeks, the 100-hour weeks didn't allow for web browsing or even masturbation) and had stayed in contact. He heard about her first anal experience; she'd heard about his first threesome. Then she told him about her first threesome and he masturbated while she told him about it. Imagines of her licking a woman's clit while the woman's husband fucked her from behind...her heavy breasts being grabbed.
She was funny, and she was sex. He couldn't help but think about her. He wasn't even jealous of her sexual experiences. He wanted her to get fucked, and fucked often. She was kinda bi, but more just experimental.
Then she told him of her wedding night; eight months later, when they reconnected, she told him about her divorce proceedings. Shit happens.
He'd bought the condo on the north side of the island, along Royal Marcus Way. It was a few million dollars that he could afford and he needed a winter getaway. And this year, she was it. She was his winter getaway. Away from northern Minnesota and the wicked wind bulleting off Lake Superior. He had 10 days away, and he wanted to enjoy his investment.
She was waiting for him at the end of a pier 10 minutes away from his new condo. Jessica loved the breeze and couldn't imagine not living in Florida. She'd grown up here, and had spent a few months in Connecticut with her lackluster husband. But Florida was home, and the winters were wonderful. The rest of America, with its blizzards and slush and frostbite was foreign to her mindset. Might as well live in Antarctica, she thought.
Jessica saw him walking down the pier. It was early morning and the only others out here were retirees on morning walks and fishermen hoping the pelicans didn't grab their catch from their hooks. But on the pier now walked a man with purpose. A man a half-dozen years older than she was. She'd just turned 24; he was almost 30.
A young multi-millionaire, and one that was easy on her eyes. He could have a reality show if he wanted the exposure, but he just wanted to work. She knew his addictions, his companies that he'd built, literally, from the first floor up. And sex.
She wore a sundress that left little to the imagination with her large breasts catching the eyes of many. She didn't care about them. Just about him.
Luke kept walking. He knew it was her, but she was so much more attractive in reality. He acknowledged her as he was within 10 feet of her, a rose in his hand.
"Beautiful view," he said as the sun basked her tanned skin and dark hair, millions of waves crashing along the Gulf of Mexico in the background. She was of Italian and Mexican heritage and her body was exotic. Her breasts large, her hips curved. She took a few steps to him, trapping the rose in her fingers and wrapping her arms around Luke as he leaned over. She nuzzled her nose into his neck, kissing him there first. She knew his neck was sensitive.
"Pleased to meet you, Luke," Jessica said. Their arms lingered around their waists as they looked at one another. He was of unknown heritage. His mother had dropped him off at a hospital when he was a few hours old, and wasn't expected to survive. But he did, and he thrived. He assumed he was mainly European in background. Maybe Irish, maybe Russian. He was taller than most, standing 6 foot 3 inches tall, with a stout chest and thick arms. He loved physical work outside but also knew he didn't make his money away from an office. Jessica was almost a foot shorter than him, and he liked that... he liked shorter women, almost to the point of being a fetish -- a short woman with large breasts always ignited his wick, even if it burnt out after a few moments.
Here, on a pier along Marcos Island, he was already getting hard. And she was already wet. It was the story of their relationship online. Whenever they were online at the same time, masturbation happened. It didn't matter about their moods or their preoccupations.
"Would you like to go with me?" he said, already knowing the answer.
They held hands down the pier until they reached his convertible. He walked her to his passenger's side and opened her door. Then he leaned down and she peered up, sharing their first physical kiss together.
"I've wanted that for .... sooooo long," Jessica giggled.
