A Perfect Ending To A Perfect Day.....

Between UCSD and Del Mar, Pacific Coast Highway makes a lazy downward curve as it snakes down from the cliffs and lacey trees of Torrey Pines State Park, and travels along the shoreline for about a mile before once again rising over the bluffs to Del Mar. We were winding our way through the pines, headed toward the coast on an early afternoon in May. The marine layer of clouds and the warm spring sun were waging a silent battle above us. Thankfully, the sun was winning.
There was a carefree mood in the car, lending itself to the continuous banter between us. “You’re a bad influence on me.” I said, “Here I am rescheduling my work in order to go to the beach, some dedicated professional I am!”
“It’s good for you” she replied, “Besides, you work too much.”
“Hah, not nearly enough.” I said, “A sixty hour work week, makes me a slacker.” I gave it my best feigned grumble, but clearly she wasn’t buying it. Out of the blue, this Cheshire cat grin appeared on her face and I knew something was brewing. She turned to me and with a “serious” look on her face she commented, “You know, all men are pigs!”
“Hey, what do you mean?” I asked.
“Have you ever noticed that all they look at are women’s chests?” she asked.
“That’s not true! It may be for most men, but not for me.” I tried my best to appear hurt by the comment. I couldn’t help but add, “Well, I must admit you do have a nice chest. I can say that from firsthand experience.”
“See, you just proved my point.” She had this mock smug, victorious look.
Trying my best to appear indignant I retorted, “Now wait a minute, I told you I’m different, I’m the exception.”
“Ok, then ‘Mr. Exception’, what color are my eyes?” Having said that, she immediately looked away from me.
I couldn’t resist the invitation so I replied, “Why a 36D, of course!”
That comment earned me an exasperated sigh, followed by a laugh and a playful punch. This type of give and take went on for most of our trip.
Soon, we were heading down from the bluffs of Torrey Pines Park, winding our way to the beach and the Park’s entrance. We turned left into the short frontage road, passed through the gate and purchased our parking permit. As it was midweek, and mid May, we pulled into a parking spot not fifty feet from the stairs leading to the sandy beach below. Armed with our picnic lunches and towels, we headed down the steps. At the foot of them, you have two choices: to the right and north, leads you to where the majority of people are sprawled across the sand; go south and in about an eighth of a mile you will reach a rocky point jutting into the ocean. Going beyond this outcropping requires about three basic things. First, you have to be willing to subject yourself to the whims of the ocean, in other words, you must be willing to take the chance of getting soaked. Second, you have to be a little bit adventurous and a little bit crazy. Third… you just have to be crazy. In the moods we were in, we fit into the third category. We climbed over the rocky peninsula, slipping, sliding and ultimately falling onto our rear ends, all the while laughing hysterically. Our persistence was rewarded. On the other side was a relatively secluded cove curling inward to provide us with our own little beachfront area.
We took our towels and lunch, went inland about fifty yards, and spread them out on the dunes at the base of the sandstone bluffs.
Over our heads, the sun had claimed victory over the marine layer, warming our little private paradise. The air was relatively still, giving the ocean an appearance of highly polished blue glass. If it weren’t for the seagulls and their aerial acrobatics, it would have been almost impossible to tell where the ocean ended and the horizon began.
The waves beckoned us to the water’s edge. It was time to explore.
Laughing and joking, we walked barefoot along the shoreline. It was one of those days when you could talk about anything, everything and nothing. Both of us instinctively knew that it was really about sharing a slice of life together. The ocean was still cold from winter and would occasionally wash across our feet, bringing a gasp from each of us, followed by a quick dash to higher ground. We picked up shells and skipped stones on the water’s surface as we explored “our beach” during which, I couldn’t help but notice the soft swaying of her body. I couldn’t help but think of how lucky a man I was to know her. Soon enough, it was time to turn around.
We returned to our towels and sat down for a picnic lunch. After lunch I was leaning back on my elbows, eyes closed and talking to her when she offered me her “ultimate challenge”
“Remember a couple of months ago in the park?” she asked.
“How could I forget?” I replied.
“Well, that time you got my milk to let down because your hands were so cold.”
“That water’s not too far away.” I teased. Trying to take on a more “serious” tone I said, “We can see if that works this time. Maybe I can come back and drip water on you. What do you think?”
“Nope, no way! This time my ‘official challenge’ is you can’t touch my breasts with your hands.”
“How about my tongue? Is that allowed in this ‘challenge’?”
“Nope, I’m counting on your creativity!” She laughed.
Going along with the mood, I gave my best puzzled look and asked, “Anything else is OK? Let’s see, use creativity, can’t touch the breasts, with my hands or tongue….touching other parts of your body OK?”
“All right, I accept your challenge. Now lie back and relax.”
As she lay back on her back, I began talking out loud, as if to myself. “I think I’ve got a plan. I remember back in school, I learned that the skin of different parts of the body has totally different textures. It’s time to put that theory to the test. I need to use something more sensitive than my hands to really determine if this is true. I know, I’ll use my tongue and lips.” With that I unbuttoned her shirt from the top and opened it far enough to reveal her nipples. “I need to determine if my theory has any impact on the let down reflex.” I said in my best “professional” tone. “Now let’s examine other regions.” I then unbuttoned her shirt from the bottom up until all but one button was undone. “Hmm, I need more areas!” I exclaimed. I unbuttoned the top her jeans just enough to reveal the impression of the hip bones and the smooth indentation of skin leading to the belly button.
“OK buddy.” She said, “That’s about as far south as you’re going to go!”
“Trust me, I’m a professional.” I tried to appear offended.
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” She laughed.
“All right.” I replied. “Let the ‘challenge’ begin!
I lay down next to her and softly and gently using my tongue and lips, traced the lower boarders of her rib cage. When I finished, I slowly kissed them. With intentional lazy, circular movements I continued downward to her belly button. I could begin to sense a tension building in her body. Continuing from the belly button, I lightly traced the upward rise of her hip bones with my tongue, and softly kissed the soft inner recesses of skin between her hip bones and belly button. I could feel her body gently begin to sway with the movements of my tongue.
I paused and looked up, to find milk coming from her nipples. Each time I kissed the inner part of her hips, milk trickled slowly toward the base of her breasts.
“Oh God.” She sighed in a voice just barely above a whisper. “You win…..please….”
I knelt down, straddled her and unbuttoned the rest of her blouse. I gently placed my hands on the sides of her breasts, bent down and took her nipple in my mouth. I wanted to completely drain her. And she let me.
Afterward, she looked into my eyes with a look of what I can only describe as pure tenderness, took off my shirt, her eyes never losing contact with mine. She rolled me over and lay on top of me. I can still feel the pressure of her hips against mine. I can still feel the softness of her breasts pressed against my chest. I can still feel her lips against mine as she kissed me.
It was a perfect ending to a perfect day.
ecman ecman
1 Response Jul 23, 2010

She's a very sensual lady!