More from Guy:
"I gave him one last kiss. “I miss you already!” It wasn’t a lie.
I went back to bed and slept till about noon. Snuggling between the cozy sheets, I replayed the memory loop. It was another cool, drizzly day and I refused to get up and face it.
I texted him, “Raining. Having a bath to wash cream off my hair. Sheets stink of cream. Reliving every moment.”
A little while later, he texted back, “Got your message when we landed. Enjoying you in my thoughts during the flight.”
I was glowing, sated and I think that little bit in love. How would this unfold from here? Would it?
To answer with the words of one of Shakira’s songs that I liked, “Wherever….whenever…."
"I gave him one last kiss. “I miss you already!” It wasn’t a lie.
I went back to bed and slept till about noon. Snuggling between the cozy sheets, I replayed the memory loop. It was another cool, drizzly day and I refused to get up and face it.
I texted him, “Raining. Having a bath to wash cream off my hair. Sheets stink of cream. Reliving every moment.”
A little while later, he texted back, “Got your message when we landed. Enjoying you in my thoughts during the flight.”
I was glowing, sated and I think that little bit in love. How would this unfold from here? Would it?
To answer with the words of one of Shakira’s songs that I liked, “Wherever….whenever…."
More, Guy!
We met up again four weeks later near London when I took another wine buying trip to Germany.
In the meantime, there had been SMS messages on a daily basis, as well
as at least one phone call every other day.
Guy used to ring me from his cell phone.
I would have hated to see that phone bill, but to him, it didn’t seem to
matter. Since he knew the London area better than I did, Guy had chosen
the hotel, a most romantic place called the Great Foster in Egham. It was a castle-like old country house, an
impressive setting for weddings, and conveniently located just off the M4, on
which I had traveled back to Wales.
A weekend of surprises and pleasure awaited me ─ his choice
of words. We were booked into the Tower
Room that in itself sounded promising, idyllic, unique, private and secluded
(hem, phallic?) for a love encounter like ours – a real lovers’ nest.....
A spiral staircase led up to the Tower Room.
“Wow, this is neat!” I said sitting down on the bed. “I feel like a princess.”
“That’s exactly the treatment you are going to get.” Having
stored our luggage, we both nestled down on the bed in each other’s arMs. A few
minutes later, there was a knock on the door, a delivery to the room – for me!
A big hamper basket with a selection of delicious chocolates beautifully
wrapped with a red ribbon. A card said,
“May your stay in London be
a memorable one!” I was speechless.
“I thought I’d get you something different. You probably get so many flowers anyway.”
Little did he know I could count the number of bunches I ever got on my
fingers. We spent the remainder of the
afternoon, feeding each other chocolates and sipping champagne, kissing,
hugging, munching, and telling each other about what happened since Spain.
All of that was foreplay.
We weren’t hungry for dinner, only hungry for each other; and
not so much the sex part as each other’s company. Just the way it had been in Spain before.
Nevertheless, we both got dressed up and had an exquisite dinner in the
castle’s intimate little dining room along with only three other couples. The hotel was booked out, but all the other
guests were attending a wedding in the conservatory....
This guy was an absolute gas man – just what I needed – and
sexy and caring to boot. On our way up
in the lift, Guy fell on his knees between two floors, lifted my skirt and
licked me between my legs. Thanks
goodness nobody stopped the lift to join us.
Yeah, Guy liked the thrill of potentially being
found out. Another venue was the staircase
in the hotel, kind of safe, because most people preferred the lift. .....
The score after two days was Germany:
6 and England: 2, but we
both felt like winners. How I wanted
more of this! So I decided to invite Guy to Dublin
for a visit....
We had to wait about another four weeks until we managed to
get together again. My son was away on
his annual vacation with his dad when Guy came to see me in Ireland.
By then, some pressure-cooked horniness had built up on both sides. I went to the airport prepared with two
champagne glasses, chocolates, and the sparkling chilling in a wine
cooler. This friendly welcome surprised
even a daredevil like him. We climbed in
the back of my van in the multistory car park.
I had chosen a badly illuminated spot to have some privacy from prying
eyes.
“Wow, lady, this is something else!” he remarked between sips
in the back seat.
“This is what the Irish call Cead Mile Faĩlte.” I mumbled fiddling with his pants, “the land of
the thousand welcomes.”
“You cheeky monkey!” But he liked it – I could tell.
“I thought you might be hungry when you arrive.” I shoved another yummy piece of chocolate in
his mouth, licking my fingers seductively.
Then I started to suck on him. He
was moaning with pleasure, but inexplicably, he was nervous, looking over his
shoulders from time to time. We managed
to consume the champagne and most of the sweets, but not to consummate our love
making since I was too afraid of being caught, as well. We drove home, knowing a long weekend of
relaxation, seduction, and pleasuring each other lay ahead of us.
For the rest of this sexcapade go to: http://amzn.to/1iKX3dM
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