Damn Ice Shaver
Don't buy an ice shaver. And if you get one for a gift, exchange it, or re-gift it, especially if you enjoy slushy mixed drinks like...oh, say margaritas. Its barely after noon, and I'm happily sipping a strawberry margarita as I type this. Damn ice shaver.
Enjoying this fruity, tequila heavy concoction makes me wish I were laying out on the beach. Listening to the sounds of the waves crashing and the seagulls squawking as the sun beats down lovingly on my bronzed skin.
I frown as I notice the end of my drink coming near. The beach is empty, except for the approaching cabana boy, carrying a tray with a drink replacement, tanning oil and some fresh fruit.
"Buenos dias, senorita," he greets me.
I smile, removing my sunglasses and taking in the lovely view of the man in front of me.
"Gracias," I say as he hands me the glass, taking away the empty one. "That fruit looks delicious."
"Oh it is. Fresh picked and practically bursting with its sweet nector." He picks up a very large strawberry and then asks, "May I?"
I lick my lips as he brings the fruit to my mouth. Upon biting the sweet berry, its juices seem to explode, trickling down my chin. My hand raises to catch the drips, but he stops me.
"May I?", he asks as he comes in closely to me, stopping just before he touches me, awaiting my approval. I manage to nod and then feel his warm mouth on my neck, his tongue erasing the sugar trail that the berry left.
Just as quickly he stands up.
"Will you be needing anything else, senorita?"
He sees me eying the tanning oil.
"Perhaps I may refresh you?" he asks, holding the bottle.
Setting the tray down once more, he opens the container, releasing the coconut fragrance. A quick squirt into the palm of his hands and then he begins massaging the oil into my skin, starting at my feet and working up my legs. At the top of my inner thigh, I feel his fingers brush up against the fabric of my bikini, sending sparks through out my body. I long for him to touch me there, to feel his body against mine, and then inside of me....
He comes to my chest and stops. I decide to take off my top and sunbathe topless. He smiles, admiring my exposed breasts.
"May I?", he asks, as he gets another dab of oil in his hands.
I nod, and then feel his strong hands, kneading the wetness into my breasts. My nipples are hard as he massages over them, taking his time.
Too soon, he is finished.
"Will that be all, senorita?"
I could have sent him off, imagining what might have been. But instead, I reach up, holding on to his belt and ask him, "May I?", as I begin to unbuckle him. My request is met with a smile and a nod......
Damn ice shaver! See what a bad influence it is to me?