At The Water's Edge

It was another no-show, and I could not halt these sensations. Tantalised all day by the anticipation, the tingling itch would not cease. Restless, this genie refused to return to its bottle.The need to be discreet out in public forced me to suppress it. Struggling to remain nonchalant, I lied to myself and everyone around me. My senses were on edge as the nebulous heat simmered.The flames of lust were inevitable. I needed the rapture of intense climax, exhausted in a mire of sweat, musk and perfume. Naked and sated, limp, gorged on his essence and hers too.Usually, I liked this restaurant, but now it was a travesty of glass and stainless steel with teak decking and wicker furniture. Situated in a marina, we sat surrounded by gin-palace yachts and older men with kocaeli escort bayan plastic women.Distracting myself, I empathised with the staff. Flushed students tried to maintain their poise dressed in black on a sweltering evening like this.Opting for cool billowy cotton and linen, we chose to stay and grazed on shelled langoustines with crisp white wine. My husband's urbane smile earned a kiss, my effort to codify the emotion in a split second. James understood my plea and drew me into his embrace. Reclining against him, I draped his arm around my midriff as his willing possession.Without words, he squeezed my hand as I nestled into his torso. A deft thumb drew tender circles on it as an ever-present reminder. Content with his delicate caress, he soothed kocaeli sınırsız escort the intensity and lyricism of my primal need. Gentle piano and a bossa-nova rhythm constrained me to the right side of decorum. Ensconced and safe, seduced by the notes of sandalwood, I cast myself adrift on the sundowner vibe. There was a cheerful innocence here as an oasis for the ostentatious. It was an ironic joke to those that knew this place... it served a dual purpose.This island needed the populace of a city. Here was a covert chapel of carnality hiding in plain sight, and we craved a cathedral of vice. Assignations met here, or a chance rendezvous could be found, especially on a Saturday. It required discretion; we blended in and izmit anal yapan escort dressed in their uniform. They might bray about how young their trophy wife was or the size of their cruiser. We had other dimensions on our minds.Waiting to be seated, his smile struck me. Handsome and sun-kissed, those striking features revealed a confidence that belied his youth."Now that's a smile," I remarked, "Does he recognise us, James?"My husband murmured, pondering my question, "I think I've seen them before.""There?" My tone betrayed my interest, "Did you see them there?"In the pause, blood quickened on the possibilities, "I think so."We might not be in the first blush of youth... or our second. We were happy to accept these lingering glances and reciprocate with our own. It was a silent code for those that looked for it.The young woman attached to his arm did not share his enthusiasm. She stood alongside him in an ivory ribbon dress, all perky, taut, and petite. Those pursed lips rested between enigmatic and a glower I recognised: hands-off, he's mine.