I tease, violently, with my tongue-tip. He sighs, and from that sound I can extrapolate, imagining us as lovers and how he’d hold me and say my name...intimately. He doesn’t know me, of course. None of them do. In the moment of release, I’ve only heard them call on ghosts: Anna or Laura. Chloe. When I hear those names they flower into a handful of love stories, cast out on his ragged breath into my shelter. I am Chloe or Laura, for the shortest time. I am wanted and it feels good.Another sigh. He. I went back downstairs to put on clothes and make coffee. With a fresh cup, I went up to the deck salon and enjoyed my coffee with the San Francisco Chronicle newspaper.Dewey came up with a cup and helped me read the paper until Sheila and Sue came up to protest we had left them to get cold in bed. We apologized, kissed, and made up, but encouraged our two ladies to dress so we could go get breakfast.We all dressed to go ashore and took the dinghy to the dock. Everyone just tied up wherever. My only hope was that this time would be just as memorable as the last. I headed up the interstate with her on my mind or at least what was going to take place when we met again. As the miles passed and our last night together replayed in my mind, I began to formulate items to take off the sexual bucket list! Once the meeting was over, I sped to the place that would soon be filled with her moans of excitement and sweet smell of our sexual adventures. She entered the room and was as radiant and. "Do what you were doing last night," she said.I lay atop her, supporting myself on my elbows and fondled her breasts, squeezing her broad areolas and tugging on her nipples. Her jaw slackened and her eyes glazed. "Feels so good," she purred. "Deeper ... more..."I was monitoring her heart, feeling it beating through her breasts. It gave me a rough idea as to what state of arousal she had reached.Figuring she was ready I slid down, caressing and kissing her belly and nuzzling her mons. I spread.
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