“No! No! No! Jay exclaimed irritated. We are not going to battle with the bikinis this year. Pack two, finish up in here, and meet me in the car. No...!” screeched Jay.“ I hate it when he’s right,” she whispers to herself and then packs 6 bikinis. She exits her apt with a black rolling suitcase in tow behind her, a white mesh beach bag over her shoulder, an oversized bright white cotton floppy hat on her head, sunglasses shielding her eyes from the sun, a knitted black halter top loosely cups. Putting his hands firm on my back, he smiles. His hands, moving leisurely, down, up, around. His hands, how many times have I begged to have those hands on me, I want to beg now, beg for more, beg for anything he is willing to give. His lips caress my skin, his mouth explores my body. My hands reach up to tangle in his hair, guiding his head to the places I needed touched, the places I need to feel his heat. Lower, oh god, yes, lower! He chuckles, knowing what I want, but is not ready to give. More

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