Chapter One

 

They played along the shore as if they'd been lovers for a long time-shedding their clothes to each other's eyes showing what intimacy was possible. Feasting on the sun-washed, wind-burned skin of thighs and undulating bellies, and well defined hips and shoulders that crooked at the neck where there were places for first kisses, the two found themselves matched, a destined pair of souls uniting in the simplest of touches, until it was clear there would be profound peace taking this union to an erotic conclusion.

She forgot how it began, how he'd descended on her as she looked out across the wet, salt sand to the azure blue sea and the sky beyond. His eyes drifted to her, lifted her to her feet so she could take his hand and move to the water's edge where magical things would happen.

It must have been the eyes that lured her: dark, deep-set, cavernous places where there were the stories of centuries locked inside. With the glint of their odd hues, he colored the world for her in vibrant and brilliant shades so she'd never feel empty again.

Once she was naked and he cupped her pubis in his steady hand, she was drifting with him, clenching him tightly as their arms intertwined. Did it matter that there were others on this beach? It seemed they were alone even amidst a crowd of passing sun-worshippers. Perhaps they were simply in another dimension, or perhaps their love was too pure for anything but the eyes of those that could understand unpretentious passion.

He took her at the water's edge, while his eyes peered into her squinting ones, as she tried again to make out more of his astounding face. She saw the depth there once more; and it reached her between her thighs where she was aroused. Drawing her down to the sand with him, he was entering her with a stiff erection, and riding her along the sand. So hard the surface of their bed, and yet it felt as if she were floating on a cloud being in his arms. Something unrehearsed and unexpected resulted when his organ swelled inside. The climax shook every atom in her body, making it spark with celebration fireworks.

She drifted in his embrace until it seemed that he was vanishing, the sight of his body disappearing from her, as consciousness was drawing her away, so all she'd remember was the eyes, the cavernous, dark eyes.

 

***

 

"Miss, the drink you ordered." She heard the sound of a man's voice, and woke to see the waiter at her side. Such a pleasant expression on his face. She loved Spanish men, how they moved with such ease.

"Yes. Thank you," Elena replied to him kindly. I guess I dozed off."

"Sorry to disturb you."

"Oh, that's okay, I think my dream was over," she said. Though her meaning was incomprehensible to the man, he smiled anyway and left her with the tall, cold glass of liquid.

"Are you planning to stay here all day, Elena Merino?" A blonde bikini-clad woman stood over her looking down, for an instant blocking the sun.

"This is my vacation," the reclining woman with the flawless bronze skin and the wealth of brunette hair answered her friend. "And I was just having the most wonderful dream. If you let me, I think I could close my eyes and return to it." There was a dreamy expression on her lips.

"Tell me, what did he look like?" Sandra asked.

"You think it was a man I was dreaming about?" Elena answered.

"Well, it was wasn't it?"

"So, if it was. Wouldn't you be dreaming about men, if you could."

"I'd be doing something about them, not dreaming." Sandra's message oozed with sarcasm. "So was he gorgeous?"

"I can't really say. It was one of those dreams where the faces are so fuzzy it's hard to tell. But I will know him when I find him." Elena's brown eyes twinkled lustfully as she watched the blonde sit down on the chaise lounge next her, the sensuous fair-skinned beauty appearing to melt into the easy sensuousness of the well-aroused, as she laid herself out, offering nearly every gift of her body to the Mediterranean sun. She was wearing the tiniest bathing suit Elena had ever seen, three triangles of cloth, each barely covering the appropriate space of womanly flesh; it made Elena's small bikini look like nun's garb.

"Why do you bother wearing anything at all?" Elena asked her. It seemed to her the fluorescent pink of Sandra's suit screamed to be noticed, of course, that was all purposeful too.

Sandra's blue eyes danced for her, her lip turned up with a devious intent. "Scandalous, isn't it?" she said. "You see, I do something about my plans to capture a man while I'm on vacation. While you're dreaming of it, I'm making it real."

"Well, if all you want is someone inside that thong bottom, I'm sure you won't have a problem getting a dozen offers."

"I'm looking for more than sex," Sandra retorted. "I want good sex, great sex, the most nasty, death-defying encounter I've ever had. After all, we're on vacation. When are we going to be in Spain again, anyway? We're supposed to act like sluts; everyone expects it."

"Especially you. You're doing a great job," Elena replied.

"Well, Miss Prim and Proper, you're not exactly Mother Theresa. I hope you haven't given up sex."

"Not at all. In fact, if someone was looking they probably saw my hands between my legs while I was lying here sleeping."

Sandra laughed. "Sounds lovely, but while I'm having the screwing of my life-real sex, you know the cock/cunt thing, you'll be dreaming. You'll go back to LA with nothing but wishes, while I relish my conquests. We'll see who has the hotter vacation."

"I always have hot times," Elena reminded her. "Don't forget last Saturday night."

"You even remember that?" Sandra asked.

"Perfectly," she replied. "The best airport fuck I've ever had."

"You slut," Sandra droned, as if Elena had scored one over her.

Elena smiled self-satisfied, then took a sip of the concoction of fruit juice she was holding in her hand. She went back to sunbathing, while Sandra looked coyly around for possible male conquests, scouting out her next meaningful walk down the beach.

 

Elena was drifting about in a dreamy half-awake, half-asleep state, looking for her elusive fantasy man again when she was aware of someone at her side. Her eyes popping open, she turned to see that Sandra had left, and there was a well tanned man sitting where she expected to see her friend. He was dripping wet, toweling himself off with a red beach towel. Slim waist and hips, muscled thighs and chest as if he spent hours working out in a gym; it was hard not staring. But what was most startling about the man was the tousled blonde hair, cut short on the sides, longer on top, and then the eyes-riveted on her so she couldn't quit looking at them because they seemed to draw her inside him as if she could stand I inside his body. It was the most bizarre feeling, and for a first meeting, unnerving. They could have been hazel, the eyes, though she couldn't quite tell what color they were, shifting from gold, to green, to blue, and then looking darker, brown perhaps-but cavernous, like the man in her dreams. She was stunned.

Then again, maybe she was just horny.