The Kiss (For the WQC)

The Kiss

         I remember; it wasn’t too long ago; a kiss meant something special.  I don’t mean a peck, a hello or I’ll see ya later smooch; I mean something that is a precursor to Pleasure. 

         We will be married forty-five years.  We still love each other as much as before, but because of age and debilities our passion is not what it was.  But we can remember.

* * *

         On our twenty-fifth anniversary we took a vacation in Saint Thomas.  We rented a cottage for two weeks.  It was five minutes from the whitest beach and the bluest water I’d ever seen.  Both boys are out and on their own so, why not escape.

         Our first week, we took in the beach every day.  My normal tan had turned to a deep golden brown and Bob had finally learned to use the sunscreen properly, so he also began to brown nicely. 

         We swam and ran on the beach together every morning and afternoon.  Lunch was at the Beach Hut Café every day.  After the supper show we came back to our bed exhausted and slept like babies. 

         Bob only wore jockey shorts to sleep; I always wore a nightgown or T-shirt to bed, never without my panties.

         I awoke that morning to see him lying face down beside me wearing nothing but his tan.  I didn’t realize how dark he had become until I saw the contrast between his white bottom and all the rest of him.  I decided to let him sleep while I got dressed.

         As I changed into my newest string bikini, I caught a good look at myself in the full-length mirror. 'I’m still slim enough to make a man look,' I thought.  My tan was the best it had ever been, small triangle of white skin covered in neatly trimmed curls and two very white patches emphasized my small breasts. 

         As I worked the elastic band of the skimpy bottoms up my legs and adjusted the straps to be comfortable, it struck me that this bottom is a size too small.  I work the top over my head and shoulders.  There are no cups, just two small triangles of material that barely cover my nipples.  “Bob, wake up Hun.”  Moving into the bedroom; he had rolled over on his side, his morning wood, pointing straight at me. “Wake up Babe, can you imagine me on the beach with this?”

         His eyes crack open; he’s squinting at me.  Then he realized what he saw.  “Well… I could… But nobody else will.  Why not put on yesterdays bikini?”  He propped his head up with one hand and watched me strip it off, commenting. “Your tan is great!”

         “Thanks, so is yours.”  With yesterdays suit on, I slipped into my jeans.  “How about we go downtown and do some shopping today?” 

         Turning my back to him and bending over the suitcase, I’m digging out a blouse when Bob comes up behind me.  I can feel him pressing himself against me.  The threadbare material in the seat of my jeans lets me feel his hardness.  I immediately feel my need rise, involuntarily moving back against him. 

         He gently ran the palms of both his hands up and down my back as he ground against me; he was in the perfect position.  I opened my legs a bit and pushed back into him, the thin material of the suit and jean seems to amplify the sensation; my lips were wet with anticipation, my pit was pulsing.  Reaching around he caressed my breasts and was tweaking my nipples.

         I twisted around to face him; he started to bend me over the bed.  I felt his hand slip into my jeans and he clutched my bottom, pressing a finger into the cleft of my ass.  He rasps. “I need you so, so much!”

         His lips were ever so soft, encompassing mine with small passionate butterfly kisses.  Laying me down he unsnaps the bikini top and it falls free.  Lifting my butt, I slip out of the jeans and bikini bottoms with his help.  Wrapping my legs around him, his post is slathered in my juices.  He strokes it against my quivering lips, its knob against my pearl.  Rubbing against me, he is driving me crazy, I ache to have him inside me. 

         I twisted my hips sharply, making him fall into the slot then drove my hips forward and he had bottomed out.  I’m sure they heard my groan down at The Beach Hut Café.  Now he was riding me; 'they say a man stops thinking during sex, so do I'. 

         We turned into two rutting animals, wrenching pleasure from each other.  His tempo had increased ten fold, he was firm when he entered me and he turned into a rock.  I started Climaxing, my muscles constricted around him, then released, they kept doing that until I felt him release his load inside of me.  My climaxes continued long after he has finished, but he continued to hold me, kissing me and caressing me.  ‘Thank God for the pill,’ went through my mind. 

* * *

Rarely, but we still satisfy that urge.

W.C. = 864