Not far from my home is my favorite hideaway. It's situated in the most perfect little bookstore run by an eccentric old lady, who’s always telling tales of her wild, crazy days. She always puts a smile on my face and she makes the most delicious earthy black coffee, which almost curls the tongue.

I'm sitting in an old high-backed armchair in a little nook in the rear of the store. I’ve kicked off my shoes, curled up my legs beneath me and have a book in my hand, the taste of that amazing coffee in my mouth. My nose is filled with the smell of books: paper, dust and ink. It’s a perfect Saturday afternoon.

Today, I felt like feeding my romantic side and I'm reading an erotic fantasy. The heroine is getting more or less devoured by the werewolf hero. The scene is so erotic and steamy I'm almost panting. If I’d been at home I would've had my hand inside my soaking wet panties.

I'm so caught up in the story that I don't hear the approaching footsteps. I’m unaware of a presence looming over me until I hear a deep voice: "Interesting read?"

I jump in my seat, startled.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. You just looked so absorbed in your book. It got me curious."

I look up at him and meet the most amazing shy crooked smile and penetrating hazel eyes, which make my heart beat a little faster. "What?" I croak, licking my suddenly dry lips.

"Your book," he says, nodding at the volume in my hands. Now, seeing what I'm reading, he raises his eyebrows at me, stifling a laugh. His eyes crinkle at the corners, suggesting that he has laughed a lot in his life.

I'm suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to always make this man laugh, just to see those crow’s feet appear over and over again. What am I thinking? I don't know him at all. But something about him draws me in, making me want to please him, to make him happy. I shake my head to clear these thoughts.

"Oh, today I just felt like reading something that’s easily digested," I stammer.

"Don't worry. I just didn't take you as someone who’d read something so… ” he pauses, taking a long look at the front cover, before continuing, "erotic."

I flush, embarrassed and a bit insulted. "Why is that exactly?” I say testily.

"Didn't mean to offend. You just look," again with the pause, thinking before speaking, "deep."

That instantly soothes my feelings. "Well, you know, even deep people sometimes need to tickle some other senses.” I smile at him.

"That's so true." He smiles back. "May I sit?" He indicates the other armchair in the nook.

"Yes, sure, go right ahead there, Sir." I cringe at my choice of words. Sir? Why the fuck did I call him that? What is it about this man? He has me all flustered, totally making me lose my calm.

We sit in silence, now and again looking at each other. He wears jeans and a long sleeved sweatshirt. I find his presence distracting. He’s very attractive. I give up on my reading and prepare to leave when I see his book.

"Eckhart Tolle's The Power of Now, that's a good one," I say.

"You've read it?" He looks up intrigued.

"Yes, Tolle's one of my inspirers."

He smiles warmly at me. "Really? What do you think of his concept of the pain body?"

That sets off an excited discussion about everything we can think of, philosophy, life, death, passion, creativity, adventure, human behavior, dreams, the meaning of life. We hit it off completely. On every subject we touch upon, we match. So absorbed in the conversation, I have no feeling of the passage of time. There is only this moment. This now.

"We close now dearies." It's the old woman, the owner.

What, that can't be right? It was just one o'clock. But she is right. I look at my watch and it's already four. We've talked for three hours.

We collect our things and head for the door. As the owner locks up behind us I prepare to say goodbye. Gazes meeting, we start talking at the same time and then laugh.

I'm nervous all of a sudden. I don't want this to end. I inhale deeply and speak. "I just wanted to say, I really had a good time this afternoon. It's not often I get to have a conversation that amazingly intense."

He grasps my hand. It's electric. I look up at him, breath held, mouth slightly open.

His gaze is intense as he says with fervor, "Hey, I don't really know you. I only know we really connected and I'm not ready to give you up yet." He squeezes my hand for emphasis. "Take a chance on something potentially great."

I beam at him, happy he's no more ready to end this than I am. I nod my assent.

"Come, take a walk on the beach with me.” He grins and once again those amazing crow’s feet appear.

I giggle at his enthusiasm, feeling like a playful child, but looking at the overcast skies I frown a little. “In this weather?”

“Sure,” he says, eyes twinkling with mirth and challenge. "Think of it as an adventure.”

"Okay, why not? Lets go on an adventure," I say mirroring his enthusiasm.

Still clasping hands, we walk down to the beach. As we stroll, the wind picks up strength, whipping the sea into foaming waves. My hair blows around my face and I laugh exuberantly. He laughs with me. I'm utterly alive, feeling so in tune with the elements and yet feel so small at the same, in awe of the force of nature.

Above us are black skies filled with billowing angry clouds but, instead of going back, we continue, absorbed as we are in the moment and in each other. I can't remember the last time I felt this exhilarated, this filled with life and joy.

He still hasn't let go of my hand and small electric jolts keep coming from the touch.

There is something special about this man, the connection we have. I've never felt anything like it before. We haven't stopped talking, bouncing off each other's words, inspiring great thoughts and ideas.

Then, suddenly, with a deafening roar, the sky opens up, soaking us in seconds. Stunned, we look at each other. We are far out on the beach with no apparent cover nearby. We can't stay here, but where can we go?

"There," he shouts, pointing at an old boat-house with a door banging in the wind.

We run with the wind and rain battering us all the way. We reach the building and close the door behind us. It smells of old wood, salt and seaweed and something smoky that must be tar from the ropes. Standing there in the small space, we are drenched and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changes between us. It’s charged and thick with something almost tangible. We stare at each other for a few seconds, breathing heavily, and then we are kissing with a frantic passion, lips meeting, tongues tangling, teeth clashing.

There is nothing sweet or gentle about this kiss. It's full of animalistic lust, primal need.

Our hands grab and tear at the wet garments. We want them removed, desperate to touch the other's skin. I want to feel him close, now! I have no patience whatsoever. I want to consume him as he consumes me.

I manage to get his sweater and t-shirt off, baring his chest and abdomen. I like what I see, his muscled body tense, looming over me, his hair wild, eyes intense and hungry. It's not a man before me, but a savage beast. And he takes my breath away with his beauty. I reach for him, feeling his skin against my palm. He shivers at my touch, his taut muscles rippling under my exploring hands.

From deep in his throat, a rumbling growl emerges and he grabs my shirt, ripping it open, buttons flying. He snarls at the sight of my exposed bra and yanks at it to free my breasts, filling his hands, grabbing them, mauling them, staring in fascination as he pulls and twists my nipples making me pant and moan.

When he bends and takes one of my erect nipples in his mouth, I roll my head back, arching to give him better access. He licks and nips and sucks, utterly enamored with my bosom. My hands roam through his hair, caress his shoulders, knead his back.

He looks up at me, eyes blazing, before again attacking my lips, devouring my mouth. I cling to his body, wanting to get closer still, not feeling close enough..

Then his lips move across my check, licking and nibbling down to my neck where he closes his teeth around my flesh, biting down hard, marking me. With ferocious pride he looks at me, almost daring me to protest, and then tenderly licks the mark.

I lose it. I claw at his belt, ripping at the zipper to get his jeans open, trying to get him free. “I need you inside me. Now!" I snarl.

I don't have to ask twice. He pushes me against the wall, pulling up my skirt, tearing at my pantyhose.

"Just fucking rip them," I cry, desperate to get him were I want him as fast as possible.

He does as I tell him, ripping my panties off as well, exposing my sex to his touch. Sliding fingers through my wetness, he makes me groan and rock my hips. With no preamble, he removes his fingers and I welcome his cock as he slides deep inside, filling me. We moan at the merging of our bodies.

He has me pinned against the wall and lifts my legs to circle his waist as he starts to rock his hips, sliding in and out of me. He takes me hard and fast, his hips pistoning, cock pounding my wet cunt. Licking, biting, growling, moaning, consumed by feral carnality, we devour each other.

My pleasure's building quickly and soon I'm hovering on the edge, getting closer every time he plunges into me. When his pace becomes erratic, his cock twitching, white-hot ecstasy sears through me and I scream out my pleasure.

Coming down from my high, I find myself being manhandled into straddling his face. Somehow he has moved us to the floor with him lying down and me on top. He's pulling my legs wide apart, wanting my pussy on his mouth. But parts of my pantyhose are in the way. Frustrated he tears them, freeing my buttocks and thighs.

Grabbing my thighs and pulling me towards him again, his tongue is soon buried deep in my cleft, licking, cleaning, eating me. I feel a bit embarrassed knowing I'm soaking him with our juices and try to pull away, but he has me in a grip of steel.

His tongue is magic though, circling my clit, plunging deep, and soon I forget my unease and ride his exploring tongue. In front of me I see his softening cock glistening with our combined juices. I can't resist it. I lean forward and lick along his shaft, taking him in my mouth, cleaning him, feeling him hardening. I hum in delight around his dick and am rewarded by his groan and an involuntary rise of his hips.

I try to swallow him as deep as possible, relishing his taste. His hips are slowly pumping, his cock fucking my mouth, as his tongue never stops its ministrations of my pussy. Taking me by surprise, he bites down hard on my clit. It sends me over the edge once more: I’m blissfully overwhelmed.

I cum all over his face and that seems to drive him wild. Roaring he flips me over and he has me pinned under him on the floor, the rough planks scraping my breasts, stomach and thighs. I don’t care about the pain when he enters me from behind; it only heightens the pleasure as he takes me roughly.

He's holding my hands above my head and the weight of his body immobilizes me. At this angle I'm tighter and I can feel every inch of him as his hard strokes continue. He's all beast, holding me down, fucking me, growling unintelligible things in my ear.

The sensation's too much for me. As I lay there not being able to move, just taking him, I need to do something. I feel an animalistic need to mark him as he marked my neck, and I bite down hard on his arm, releasing some of the pent up tension in me. In response he growls and fucks me harder.

My skin is getting rubbed raw against the planks but I don't care. All I care about is this man, this beastly animal rutting against me, the sensation of his weight on top of me, of his skin against mine, of his hard stroking length in my cunt. When I feel him spurting his seed inside me, branding me once more, my pussy clenches, milking his cock.

He rolls off me and pulls me into his arms, spooning me. He pulls down a sail from a nearby bench, covering our near-naked bodies. We lay together, breathing heavily, listening to the howling wind and the rain smattering the roof. This should be awkward. We just met a few hours ago, but it feels like the most natural thing, lying there in his strong arms as he tenderly strokes my skin.

He clears his throat. “I should introduce myself. I’m Adam.”

I smile wide, giggling. “Hi Adam. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Eve.”

We laugh at that.

“Wow, no kidding, huh?” I can hear the laughter in his voice and feel him smiling against my neck, nuzzling it.

“No kidding.”

"I'm sorry about your clothes, Eve."

"Don't worry about it. I kind of like it. Maybe you could tell?" I say shyly, a bit embarrassed.

He chuckles behind me. "Yeah, I kind of did." He pauses before continuing. “Well Eve, the real reason I approached you at the bookstore was to try to get your phone number. I wanted to ask you on a date.”

I smile even wider and kiss the bite mark visible on his arm. “I think that can be arranged,” I say.

He pulls me closer and sighs contentedly in my ear. I burrow into him and breathe in his scent, feeling like I found my new harbor. My home.