“I’m here.”

Her text appeared on my phone the second I took it off airplane mode.

My day had dragged. The more I wanted it to move along, the slower it seemed to go. Traveling from the West Coast, my only thought was getting to her.

I’d rented a condo on the beach for a long weekend getaway, just the two of us away from the demands of work and family. My lone request -- confirmed on booking -- was a top-floor unit with a private balcony overlooking the sand and water.

But I’d finally arrived and the closer the Uber driver got to our destination, the more relaxed I felt. Every fiber of me began to lapse into leisure mode. This weekend had been too long coming for us both.

Entering the condo I had a direct view of a small sliver of the balcony. With the door open, the fresh scent of the ocean greeted me like a salty, warm embrace. Inhaling deeply,my lungs filled with nothing but relaxation.

Moving down the foyer, the rest of the balcony came into my line of sight. I stopped and smiled. She sat reclined on the cushioned loveseat, her smooth, supple legs stretched so her feet propped on the white railing, a wine glass in hand, and wearing one of my long-sleeve white dress shirts she’d confiscated on an earlier trip. (She knows how I adore her in my shirts.) With the slowly setting sun, this was my breathtaking moment of the day -- picture perfect.

Clearly she’d already entered her state of relaxation.

I shed my suit coat, shoes. socks, and tie on my way out to join her.

She heard me approaching from behind and tilted her head back. “You made it,” she almost whispered.

“Yes, just not fast enough.”

I leaned down for a kiss. It was one of those “Damn, I’ve missed you.” Passionate kisses...from both of us.

The kiss reluctantly broke and left me looking down her body. That white shirt and a tiny pair of white lace panties were the extent of her clothing. Not a button fastened, the shirt lay open barely covering her breasts.

“Comfortable, darlin?”

“Very,” she answered. She raised her almost-empty glass. “Why don’t you refill this, pour you a glass and join me.”

Returning with two glasses, I took the seat beside her and stretched my legs so my feet, too, rested on the railing. She leaned against me, rested her head on my shoulder and twined her fingers in mine. One of us sighed; maybe both.

We sipped our wine and talked about our week as the sky turned brilliant oranges and reds.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said softly as she pulled her legs down and stood. “Put your legs down,” she added as she turned toward me.

When I did as instructed, she straddled my thighs. Slowly. Agonizingly slow. Her eyes locked onto mine as she settled onto my lap, but not quite up against me. Without any other touching, she leaned in so our lips met in the lightest possible way. It was one of those almost-teasing kisses that leaves me desperately wanting so much more.

She did it again. And again. And again. Enough contact that I could reciprocate, but barely.

Everything in me wanted to pull her body against mine. But she clearly was in charge of this soft, languid moment and nothing could force me to interrupt.

She sat up straight and began unbuttoning my shirt while stating quite matter-of-factly, “You’re overdressed.”

“I am?” I couldn’t help but grin. But she was right.

“You are,” came her reply. “I shouldn’t be wearing more than you.”

How the hell could I argue with that logic? I couldn’t and didn’t even try.

She finished unbuttoning my dress shirt, pushed it off my shoulders and down my back, then pulled the sleeves off each arm. That achievement warranted another light kiss.

A quick pull of my t-shirt over my head was met with yet another kiss.

She watched her hands glide leisurely across my chest. It was as if she were trying to memorize me. I watched the way she studied her hands before she finally pushed against my chest to move off my lap.

For about a tenth of a second the thought occurred to me to protest, until she knelt at my feet.

She leaned over my knees and began unbuckling my belt. Again, she watched her own hands intently. Again, I watched her.

With the belt open, she flicked the button open and her red fingernails gently took hold of the zipper. She leaned closer. It was then that her eyes shifted to mine for a moment.

There may have been a smile on her lips when her eyes went back to her fingers that pulled the zipper steadily until it bottomed.

Without parting the fly, her hands went to my hips and pushed down the waist of my pants. I lifted so she could continue to remove them as she stood, grabbed the legs, pulled them off me and tossed them aside.

I sat in black boxer briefs and nothing else.

She stood before me, still in her white panties and what was once my white shirt.

“Now you’re overdressed,” I observed.

“For now,” she answered as she assumed her former position on my lap, only this time her hips across my groin and her chest against mine. She rose on her knees and I tilted my head back as we engaged in a kiss that barely felt like anything earlier. This was one of those deep, searching, sensual damn-it’s-been-too-long kisses. It lingered, as every I’ve-missed-you kiss should.

My hands gripped her firm cheeks and held her tight, pulling her harder against me. At that moment, it felt like I couldn’t get her close enough, though we could scarcely have gotten closer.

Through the kiss she settled back onto my lap. When her weight finally settled fully, I felt a smile in her kiss (I love that!).

“I think somebody’s missed me,” she almost whispered.

“Whatever would give you that idea?” I asked in my most innocent voice.

“This,” she answered as she slid her hips back slightly and lay her hand on the growing bulge in my shorts. When her fingers wrapped around me, I moaned slightly. When she tugged long and slow, another moan. With every stroke my erection became more pronounced. She smiled at her achievement.

Her hand came off and her hips slid forward again, placing her directly on the length of me.

“Mmm,” was all that escaped her lips. She clasped her hands behind my neck, tilted her head and body back, and began the most erotic hip roll these eyes had ever seen. Nothing but her hips moved, but damn, did they move. Smooth. Deliberate. A gentle grind. Every move made me harder between her parted legs.

Her back arched deeper, pressing her down harder. The shirt barely covered her hard nipples that now begged for attention. I leaned forward and lightly licked.

A long “Ohhh,” was all that escaped her parted lips. But herr hips went from a slow, erotic slide to a lilting writhe. Now I felt her heat, even through two thin layers of fabric. Lightly sucking her nipples brought a low moan and caused her chest to heave as she deeply inhaled the ocean air.

With our mutual arousal building, she slowed the tempo, pulled herself up and raised her hips off me.

Looking down between us, she pulled the crotch of your now almost transparent panties aside.

“God, look how wet I am.” Her words dripped with need and maybe a little wonder. Even in the muted sun on the balcony, her lips glistened with sexual arousal.

I slipped my hand around her hip and between her legs. She alternately watched my hand and my eyes.

My middle finger barely parted her now slick lips, causing her to take a deep, quick breath, but not move. Oh so wet. Oh. So. Deliciously. Wet.

Pulling my finger toward me and up, I lightly grazed her erect clit. Another sharp, deep breath. Again she did not move; she just watched.

I moved my hand from between her now-trembling thighs and brought it up so we could both see it coated with her. Without hesitation I sucked every drop of her juices off that one finger.

A lusty smile crossed her lips as she leaned in to kiss me again -- almost before I could move my finger -- and taste her on my lips. This kiss came from a place of urgency, passion and desire. Her hips went back to that slow roll. Her nipples pierced my chest. The urgency of the moment built.

Then everything slowed. The kiss ended. We embraced naturally, neither more than the other.

“I think we may have started something,” she whispered.

“I think you may be right. But I need a shower first.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“I would be upset if you didn’t, babe.”

She slid back, took my hand and led me down the hallway to the bedroom.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said as she released my hand so I could finish undressing. Just as she turned the corner toward the shower, I swear she gave her tight, sweet ass an extra wiggle, knowing that gets me every time.

Entering the bathroom and looking forward to being closer to her, I stopped to take in my second ‘oh my’ visual in the short time I’d been at the condo. With light steam beginning to fill the marble shower enclosure, she stood under the rainfall, her head up and the water soaking her.

She still wore my shirt. And those sheer panties. The water turned them translucent. The white fabric clung to her curves the way I wish I could. 

I walked to the door and propped on the wall, just watching. She savored every warm drop gently pelting her soft skin. She was lost in the sensations, oblivious to my presence.

Her hands glided up her tummy and cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently, then tugged her nipples through the material. Her left hand stayed on her breast; her right slipped back down her body. I watched her fingers disappear inside her panties, down between her thighs.

Her body did the sexiest, most subtle writhe as she stood there in the steamy enclosure.

While her hands caressed and explored, she slowly turned and leaned back against the shower wall, spreading her legs slightly. Her eyes were closed; mouth slightly open as if a moan were trying to escape. Her mind and body were lost in the steam and the building sexual waves.

Her left hand slid slowly down and lay on top of her right. Both disappeared behind the dripping lace, moving slowly up and down. Finally, there was a moan.

I couldn’t stand it any longer and stepped into the warmth. Standing close and leaning in, I asked in a low voice, “May I help?”

A slight smile mixed in with the look of pleasure on her face.

“Mmm, yessss,” she answered without opening her eyes.

She moved her left hand back to her breasts, peeling the cloth aside, and gently tugging her pebble-hard nipples. I caught her right hand before she could move it.

“Let me guide you, babe.”

I lay my hand on top of hers and pushed it gently back down, over her mound and between her quivering thighs. Then guided it back, rubbing her lips lightly.

“Ohhhhhh...You’re teasing me.”

“Should I stop?” With that question, I pushed her hand back down and slipped her middle finger between her lips.

“Please...don’t,” she breathlessly pleaded, lifting her hips forward to press into our hands.

I curled her finger upward and inward to penetrate, my finger on top of hers. She tightened around us, grinding her hips to take us deeper.

Our fingers moved in, then out, slow finger fucks making her wetter with each. Her hips -- her body -- matched our rhythm.

Our strokes became longer; in deep, then almost leaving her empty. In moments her legs began to tremble slightly. Her back arched and she tilted her face upward.

I leaned in and kissed her neck. “Cum for me, baby.”

Finishing my request, I pulled our fingers upward oh so slowly so her fingernail gently lifted and dragged along the underside of her clit.

That was all it took. Leg trembling became leg shaking.

I pulled our hands from between her now-clamped thighs and we embraced in a deep, urgent kiss as waves of pleasure rolled through her. She gasped and moaned into our kiss with every ripple of release.

As her body calmed, the kiss softened, but lingered. She finally tilted her head back and looked at me for a long few seconds. “Mmmm, that was a wonderful surprise.”

“Welcome to our weekend, babe.”