A salty fisherman stands looking over the ocean, he sees waves of people rising and falling with the tides of life.
Grasping his pipe, he takes a breath of the air around him, stoking the embers of his tobacco and exhaling with a little pop of his lips, the smoke curls and rises across his mouth.
He turns to survey the ocean once more, as if looking for his love, the sea gyrates and surges the ebb and flow of existence, energy swirling as consciousness the pulse of the waters, and all that exists upon it, all that is beneath, and all that soars above the foamy currents.
His ship rocks from side to side, rolling front to back as the buoyancy gives and takes to his weight, settling and tipping in a dance of balance, riding between the forces of gravity and precipice of pressures which keep his vessel aloft.
The wind stirs and blows across his straggled hair, carrying the twisted branches along its path for a moment, pulling and stroking at his forehead.
His muscular arms fold across his chest, he saunters to the edge of the bow to peer once more over the expanse.
Raising a large strong hand to his gnarled beard, rubbing his chin, smiling, lost in thought, his mind embraces daydreams for a moment he thinks of a beautiful woman from recent past…
He was watching her from the corner of his eye, as she was seated on a bench.
Her legs stretched out before her like a pathway leading from the ground toward hidden treasures.
With the passing of each moment her breast slowly expanded and contracted. Though she seemed relaxed, her nipples pressed hard against the inside of her blouse, her chest ever straining to escape the buttons that kept the garment from exploding open in tormenting release.
She knew he was watching her, and pretended not to notice his gaze, though it was obvious enough to herself his eyes were tracing her curves as if his hands were upon her body, firmly scooping around her shape and bringing shivers to her skin.
Deep within her cunt she couldn’t help but get wet from the thought of desire, how his manhood would feel inside her, pounding away at her heat.
She closed her eyes for a moment, her lips parting a sigh and tongue poised to flick at anything which might suddenly be thrust into her hungry mouth.
Her clit twitched at the visions she was having about him already, yet remained aloof as if not interested in the least, though she knew she wanted him to lay her down and bang the bejesus out of her right now.
She stood up to greet him. He was ready to swoop her into his arms, or grip her at the sides and thrust her over his shoulder, carrying her to a nearby alcove to strip and fuck her, hard.
To see her was to want her. He looked upon her outfit, the way it would cling on her tight ass.
For an instant he thought to grab the bottom of her skirt into his hands, yanking it up from behind and pulling it above her hips, bending her slightly at the waist, thrusting her against the nearby wall, tearing her panty away and ramming his throbbing hot cock into her, until they both came in a screaming frenzy of quickened passion.
She was seething sexuality, and her scent was intoxicating him. She glanced at his crotch and followed the lines of his hips, across his abs and chest, over the details of his hair and face.
She wondered what his skin would feel like under the touch of her silky hands, as she pressed down into the darkness of his pants and squeeze his shaft in her palm and stroked him there, sliding her fingers around his balls and cock, pulling the trousers down then kneeling to take the throbbing rod into her salivating mouth.
She smiled sweetly and innocently at him. She had reservations about being openly sexual with him, for her appetite was strong yet wanted to keep it hidden. Perhaps he would keep her secret. She didn’t know, but wanted him, she needed it. She knew it would be safe if they agreed to discrete sex and keep it that way. She liked her freedom, hell yes let him take that dripping pussy. She would enjoy watching herself do him.
He thought of dropping to one knee directly in front of her, raising her skirt from the front this time, and throwing one of her shapely legs over his shoulder, he would bury his face into her mound, and smother her pussy with his smacking kisses and licks of his probing tongue.
At that moment, she was imagining the same motion, him sucking on her button while she gyrated and grind her sex into his face, grasping his head lustfully, her hands stuffed with his hair, she would ride his expert eating and ensure he touched every sensitive spot, her smooth thigh pressed into the side of his head in a naughty embrace. She let out a small moan and hoped he didn’t hear it.
Oh how she wanted him to slide that delicious thick dick into her wanton juicy hole. She squirmed in her skirt, standing before him, and half thought to just pull it off and lay down letting him do whatever he wanted to her, regardless of what she may have done or said previously, the thought of this felt right, and a firey part of her kept letting her know she wanted his penis.
She would be silent except for the yelps of ecstasy from her throat, as she finally gave him what he wanted, indeed she wanted him to take her, if only just this once, perhaps again some other time too. She just couldn’t get the thought out of her mind. She liked the idea.
He looked into her deep eyes and saw she was lost in thought, a smile curled around her face and lips puckered slightly, as if ready to taste a kiss or perhaps devour something he fed into her lips. If he didn’t get her in the next few minutes, he would ponder taking her another time.
He watched her hair draped over her shoulders, cascading along her back. It was all he could do to keep from yanking it forcibly as he bent her down upon his pulsing member and direct her to pleasure his every whim.
Her eyes met his and it rocked him to the core, he shuddered a bit, then handed the object he had built for her.
She thanked him and pecked him on the cheek with a warm wet little kiss. His senses filled with the aromas of her as her boobs brushed up against him, gently pressing into his chest for a moment.
How he could have grabbed her then and hugged her tight, reaching down to cup a breast or squeeze her ass in his hand, giving her a strong passionate kiss.
She thought of how it would be to surrender into his arms and give herself to him, she always claimed to be submissive to the right men. It was a sign of her strength though she felt so weak near to him, she thought she would faint and become butter in his willing hands, exploring her open body and slipping his fingers inside her. She took every ounce of resistance left and pulled back after kissing his cheek, and smirked.
They were here, where he built it, and she got what she came for, her fantasies would come in handy as she toyed with her vibrator later.
She knew he would go there with his man meat in his hands, thinking of her riding on top of it, below it, along the side of it, oh what things they could do in each other’s minds together.
“Someday..” she thought to herself, knowing that man in other ways belonged to her, and wanted her, and knew if she gave him a few minutes, hours, or night, he would respect her; It would stay their secret, besides, he could change appearance to be whatever she liked him to be.
She enjoyed him after all, and wasn’t so mean, heartless and cruel to deny him pleasure if he ever asked — not that he did, but she would find means to say “yes” and have him, at least that once, if he asked…
The man gazed longingly and knew she was free, no strings, the odd distance between them, but wished she allowed him her private moments, “Someday, Cassidy,” he hoped, then walked off to take care of a pounding ache of erection. Just a taste, he thought, mm that would be delicious sometime. He was happy either way…