The beach was all but empty on that hot afternoon, and solitary sunbeds and umbrellas dotted the horizon. Off in the shade of the coconut palms was an open-air pavilion, a legendary stop on this largely isolated stretch of beach. They said that one massage there could change your life.
The raised platform was covered with thick mats, and a bowl of sweet-smelling oil sat near the head of each one, a plumeria blossom floating gracefully across the surface. Gauzy white curtains billowed in the breeze. We sat on the edge of the platform and the quiet, tiny women washed the sugary sand from our feet. As we reclined onto our respective mats, she appeared. Her tiny black bikini suited her lithe figure, and her curly mass of auburn hair set off her fair and freckled skin. She climbed onto the mat next to me, her presence all but forgotten as I drifted, deeply relaxed by the rhythm of the waves and the soothing strokes of the masseuse.
An hour later I woke to the gentle sound of a gong and her hand nestled in mine. Despite the unusual feeling, I didn’t pull my hand away until it was time to leave. My lover and I gathered our things to set off. The redhead caught my eye as we left and winked, stirring a heat that surprised me.
He and I left hand in hand, an electric current passing between us, heightening the sensations Red had awakened in me. In the filtered gray light of our private bungalow I saw the man who’d long ago captured my heart and my owned my body. Where he’d gone…where I’d gone…was anyone’s guess. But that afternoon we saw our old selves, our old souls.
We knelt on the bed in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, our oiled skin glistening in the dappled sunlight. Piece by piece we pulled each other’s clothing off, admiring the emerging silken expanses of skin. Savoring the lustful look in his eyes, I ran my hands down his body, the oil coating my palms, my fingertips leaving trails across his skin. Eager and anxious he pulled me to him, crushing my lips with a kiss and slipping his hands down the slickness of my spine to the curve of my ass, teasing the sensitive and responsive flesh. I felt my body open for him as his fingers moved farther, seeking the wet heat that grew between my legs. I bared myself to him as I hadn’t in ages.
Softly he pulled my swollen nipples between his fingertips, eliciting a moan that brought back a rush of memories. Inflamed, I pushed him to his back, his thick cock rising against his belly and slid my oiled body over his until I felt the tip of him. With our gazes locked he pushed into me, pulling my hips against his, our bodies moving in sync with the crashing ocean outside our window.
It will change your life, they said.
(Don't worry your pretty little head, there's more to this story! Stay tuned for part 2 & 3 this weekend. And be sure to follow the writer of this fabulous piece, Liza, here.)