I love this hideaway of hers. In plain sight, but then again not. We meet in the morning. The apartment is as quiet as a church. This is familiar territory. I can feel my brain relax when I cross the threshold.
She is in yoga pants and a t-shirt. She pegs me with her blue eyes, and I am hypnotized. She stands 5’ 5”, straight dishwater blonde hair hanging to the middle of her back. Off come the yoga clothes. Lavender and black lace underneath. She kisses me lightly up on tiptoes, then her hair back. Ready for business.
She sheds the rest of her clothes and does a series of stretches. Naked with perfect form and perfect tan lines (she lives out at the beach). She is slender and toned, with a few tattoos. A hibiscus wreath on one shoulder and an angel on her ribcage. B cup breasts that are not quite firm, yet sexy as hell. Bleach white triangles against the rest of her deep tan.
Grinning, she pulls me down with her to the bed. We lay there a moment side by side, eyes matched. Hands lightly roaming. I have missed her. She has this calm energy which is difficult to describe. Like deep water. We have a good session. I needed that.
Afterwards, we lay in the morning light. Touching. Her skin feels perfect. We kill the rest of the session laying naked, hands roaming. We talk a bit. Catch up. Then a quick shower, and time to get back to the rest of our day.