Grazing

"So Peter, you've managed to pick up a stray." He laughed.

I responded: "On the contrary Mike, You'd love this one, Can you help her?"

He answered: "Yeah, listen ... I'm out on the street, call me later this evening and I'll see what I can do for her."

I looked over at her, she smiled at me and I winked and confidently said: "We're in."

The mood with her seemed much lighter than our trip back from dinner last night and as we approached Sockeye's, I asked her if she would like to stop in for the swim suit sale and pick something out so we could spend our day on the beach together. Soon we were on our way back to the villa with her holding a tiny bag containing her new white bikini.

When she went into the master bath to change, I quickly slipped on my baggies and when she stepped out, I looked up and her fit shape, full breasts, plump pubis and the total package in that micro-tiny white bikini took my breath away: "Are you sure you want to get that wet?" I playfully asked her as I reached out to and pretended to untie the string on the side of that mini bottom.

"You only interested in making it wet from the inside." She remarked as she slapped my hand away: "Come on, there will be time for all of that later." And we walked across the road to the beach.

We couldn't have picked a finer day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the sun was high, the water was warm and we had a great time together and I was more than proud to see the heads she turned and looks we got as we played and enjoyed that day together. Wow, too often between the time we splashed and I cradled her in my arms in the waves and we ordered boiled shrimp and beer at the cabana, I had to keep mentally making reality checks, telling myself that our age differences and my lifestyle, would prevent anything permanent from coming of this.

Tired from the heat and the sun and exhausted from a full day at play, we made our way back to shower off the salt and the sand and to nap. I can remember the cold chill from the air conditioning as I opened the door and followed her in.

While making our way to the outdoor shower, I stopped her at the foot of my bed, picked her up like a babe in arms and laid her on top of the spread. I placed her arms above her head, slowly untied the strings and removed her top and bottom.

I couldn't believe how she lay there with the look of wanton love, commitment and total surrender on her face. I started my sniffing and licking of her beaded sweat at her wrists, down from her arms and the bend in her elbows. I huffed in the arousing scent of her under arms and licked and tongued them down over and up and in between each breast.

I worked my way down the center groove in her slick wet slightly muscled little tummy, taking in every bit of the thick glycerin like sweat that she had to offer me. I took in the scent of her navel as the soft cooing sounds that she made as I sniffed, licked and tasted her everywhere lustfully raised my heart rate and again, though I tried my very best, I just couldn't get enough of her.

When my face came to rest in the glory between her legs, she brought her little feet up and raised her pelvis against my mouth and I licked, tasted and ate everything that my lips, and tongue would reach and each and every soft encouraging coo, eventually turned into lustful moans of pleasure.

By the time that my face and tongue had completed their slow journey to her ankles, she was well past ready.

But this time it had to be different. This time it was for her and only her. I took her tenderly and as gently as humanly possible and I slowly eased her into the total sexual satisfaction that she deserved. No hard humping or pounding, no violent grunting thrusts, just plane gentle lovemaking at its finest and when we mutually concluded, her rippled little tummy was heaving, her knuckles were white on the headboard spindles and when she finally caught her breath, just barely above a whisper she said: "Though I know this has to ... I pray that it will never end ... Not ever."

I laid with her for a while and as her total ecstasy subsided, I took her outside to shower. It was peaceful, it was sensual and it was fun.

Though we had a late lunch, somehow the throes of passion always tend to induce great hunger and as we sat on the sofa, dressed and ready to go, still trying to decide what and where we would have dinner, my cell rang ... It was Mike.

"Ok Peter, I'm in front of the office computer, I'm going to need her full name. DOB and Sowsh." He requested: "We'll see if there were any hits on her credit cards or used minutes on her cell, but I don't have to tell you that her cloths, cash and other belongings are probably long gone by now. Did she have any travelers insurance?" He asked.

"Look, Mike I better let you talk to her, one minute and I'll get her." And as I hit mute, she smiled at me, mouthed: "Thank you." And reached for the phone.

As they talked, I went over to the bar, retrieved two clean rocks glasses and as I started to make us a drink when I heard her say from behind me: "Here Peter, he wants to speak to you. Ok Mike, here he is. Thank you."

When I turned around, she was smiling her beautiful smile with her arm extended toward me holding out my phone: "Yeah Mike, did she fill in the blanks for you?" I asked, and I grinned and looked deep into those pale sage green eyes.

"Peter ... Are you fucking with me?" His voice came strong.

Without trying to let on to her that there might be some kind of a problem and still attempting to maintain my smile and eye contact with her I responded: "What's up man." And I listened.

"Peter, the information your little lady just gave me, that's what's up!" He answered.

Still smiling, I winked and nodded at her while fighting in my mind for a comeback that wouldn't upset her. Besides, I didn't know what could be up myself: "Ok...?" Was the best I could do.

"Peter, Sarah Michelle Penney came down from UMSL on spring break." And I anxiously cut him off.

"Yeah Mike I know." I answered and Sarah kind of glanced down at the floor.

"Peter ... That was over thirty two years ago. The real Sarah was a black girl, five four, green eyes, lighter brown hair. She was with a bunch out on a dune buggy after hours watching a storm roll in on the beach there. You know the drill, bonfire, music booze. Peter, they were struck by lighting ... She died that night along with the others only a few hundred yards from your buddy Bear's hotel! The DOB that your Sara just gave me, puts her over fifty years old! Peter, this could be a case of stolen identity! "

As I felt my facial expression change I spun around, turning my back to her and I faced the front door: "And your are sure about this?" I asked.

Before he could answer, I spun back around only to see her imprint in the leather bottom and back cushion of my sofa and I witnessed them rebound from where she'd been sitting. I could still smell her sweet scent in the room. I immediately ran up the stairs to the loft only to find a little ripple in the bedspread where she crawled out of bed last night during the storm.

When I bolted back down, the master bed and bath were as empty as may heart. On top of the chest lay her little white shorts and I could see her bright white bikini shining through the glass door, still on the hook in the outdoor shower where she hung it after our earlier lovemaking.

When I finally realized that I was still holding my phone and the annoying sound that tempted my concentration" Peter ... Peter ... Peter... Are you all right man. Answer me! .. Peter!" Was Mike still on the open line.

"Yeah Mike." Is all I could say.

"What's going on there?" Mike asked: "Dude are you all right?"

And I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't alright. Not by any means.

"Listen ... Mike ... I must be mistaken, I'm sorry man."Is all I could say.

"Look Peter. You stay where you are, I'm going to drive up and get you." He told me.

I responded: "Michael, you're about seven and a half hours from me. I'll fly back tomorrow. I'll park the Escalade at Bear's hotel in the secured lot and I should be home by or before four tomorrow evening."

"Look ... are you sure? Man I'm worried about you. You've been working nonstop, you just berried your two dear friends Doc and Kim and you haven't been on your boat in months ... Will you be flying in to Tampa?" He asked.

"Mike, if I have to charter of even buy a plane, I'm landing at the Sarasota airport." I told him and at that time, I thought that I must be fucked up. This all had to have been in my head.

"You text me your flight information the minute you get it and I will be sitting on the cell lot looking at the display board waiting on your call. I'm going to take you to 'The Brew House' and we'll tie one on together." He offered: "You sound like you need that."

I packed, made my flight reservations and text mike all on absolutely zero sleep. I still, to this day, cannot get her out of my mind. Her sent on the pillow, her damp stains on my sheets. What am I going to do. I can't tell anyone. There were far too many real things for me to have dreamed all of that up. But she truly was a dream.

I stuffed Hazel's money in an envelope and marked it housekeeping and I added an extra hundred folded in a thank you note and made one more walkthrough to make sure that nothing I needed at home would be left behind. On my way back to the great room, I noticed the bi-fold door wasn't pushed shut all the way and I looked in the washer.

My heart sank to my stomach when I pulled out her original soiled panties and I was so shocked over the fact that they were the only item in there: "I keep the panties ... I always keep the panties." Ran over and over in my mind as I drove across the road to park at the hotel: "How could she even know that about me?" I thought: "I never told her that ... She had left me too soon."

Mike did pick me up at the Sarasota airport that evening and we did tie one on. He never let me pay for a thing and he never asked me anything about that call. Good friends are like that.

Seven or so days later, I was arranging a date to meet with Kay James, the beautiful daughter of my two deceased friends when my assistant handed me my mail. In all the trade magazines, adds and junk crap was a letter from my cleaning lady. When I opened it, It read:

Dear Mr. Peter,

Thank you so much for my tip. My family and I can really use the extra money, but it has never been a problem cleaning after you. You take pride in your place and it shows because you always keep it so nice, just like when I came by to service your villa the last day that you left. The moment that I opened your door, the whole place smelled of new orange blossoms.

Thank you again,

Hazel