I've long been of the opinion that everybody has at least one incredible adventure in their life. I had some wonderful experiences during my thirty seven years, but I felt that my own incredible experience was still in the wings. As it turned out I was right. But now that it has happened I want to share it with the world.
It was a brilliant spring day, the kind that has always filled me with good feelings and energy. I've never been athletic or anything like that. I always hated PE class when I was growing up. The only sport that I ever really played and liked was tennis. So that bright day, with its endless blue sky and warm breeze, made me wish I could play some tennis.
Unfortunately, I was new to L.A. and had not yet made any friends. The only people I had even spoken to were my coworkers, my landlord, and the clerks at the gas station and supermarket. My company had transferred me two weeks previously — giving me a promotion and a healthy raise in salary for fucking up my life. Still, the weather there was better than back in New York. The cost of living was lower on the west coast and with all the sunshine and mild weather the women wore skimpier clothes more of the year.
So, since I lacked a tennis partner I had to settle for the time honored male pastime of "girl-watching". I took a walk down along the beach and enjoyed the sight of spandex clad rumps gliding roundly past on inline skates and passing joggers with their breasts and asses bouncing. I suppose there were males passing by, engaged in similar activities, but I didn't notice them.
I came to a little lunch wagon and grabbed a taco and a cup of lemonade. I took a seat on a vacant bench at one of the many tables the county provided for its citizens. All in all, the beach walk wasn't crowded. It would have been surprising on such a nice day, except that it was a Wednesday and most people were at work. My new position was fairly flexible and I was able to do a lot of my work from home.
There were a lot of vacant benches and tables along the beach walk. A sign I passed informed me that I could thank the county (i.e. the taxpayers, i.e. me) for them. I picked one near the taco cart and resumed my observations.
Since there were so many available tables, I knew right away that it wasn't out of necessity when she walked up and asked if she could join me. I looked up and found myself face to face with an incredible looking woman. I won't describe her because it wouldn't do her justice. Just know that her hair was a golden brown and her eyes had little gold flecks in them that seemed to capture and tame the sunlight.
I'm no fool. Or... well, you decide. Of course I asked her to sit down. "My name is Drew Williams," I said, holding out my hand.
"Serena Bullock," she replied, taking my hand in her warm, dry one. She had a decent grip for a woman. Most of them just take your hand and let you do the rest. Serena took the initiative. For some reason it made her more fascinating to me.
"So what do you do, Serena Bullock, that gives you a beautiful Wednesday morning off?"
"I'm a writer," she answered. "So I'm never really 'off', as you put it. I'm always turning thoughts into ideas and ideas into stories, even when it seems like I'm just sitting and enjoying the company of a handsome man." Her compliment took me by surprise and I felt my face heat up. She gave a throaty chuckle and sipped from her soda.
I took a bite of my taco (wishing right then that I'd left the onions off) to buy some time for composure. She jumped right in then and returned my question to me. I explained my job to her and the freedom it gave me. I finished my food and we talked a long time. For some reason I found Serena very comfortable to talk to. She seemed to have an intuitive grasp of things that, in my experience, women usually have trouble 'getting'.
I think it was that quality more than anything physical that pulled me toward Serena. When I said she was incredible looking, I didn't mean she was conventionally attractive. She was slender with small breasts. Other than those eyes, her face was not that remarkable. She was pretty, everything symmetrical and all that; she just wasn't striking. Anyway, I guess you could say I liked her more "for her mind" than her obvious physical attractiveness. There was just something about her.
At any rate, by the end of our two and a half hours there on the beach we'd exchanged numbers and our parting handshake was more lingering than our introductory one. Serena even used both hands to wish me a great afternoon. I almost thought she would hug me but I had to wait for that.
Another thing we'd discovered was that we both liked to play tennis. When Saturday rolled around I called her and asked her if she'd like to go hit a few balls over a net. I sweetened the offer. "Listen, part of the package my company gave me to compensate for my transfer is a membership to a country club. I've been out there once, but just for dinner. I was thinking we could play a while, shower there and then have dinner."
Serena laughed. "And just whose balls did you want to hit?" she asked. I had to laugh.
"Well, not mine," I said.
"Nor mine," she returned. That made me laugh even harder. "We'll see about the rest, but I'll put my tennis shorts on and I can meet you there. I gave her the address and directions. We arranged a time to meet and I hung up. I finished up my email and logged off the company web site. Then I went and changed into my tennis clothes. I grabbed some clothes to put on for dinner — the club had a casual dining room — and stuck all but the shirt (button down — they aren't that casual) into a small gym bag. The shirt stayed on its hanger.
The club is a small one. The director told me they had only two hundred members at the time I arrived. The Saturday I took Serena there, there were around fifty members engaged in various activities, including golf and swimming. I'd called and reserved a court but it appeared it wasn't necessary. Only one other couple was playing, leaving four courts empty.
The tennis was unspectacular. I had a feeling that Serena was holding back. She won enough games to let me know she had a great serve and a killer backhand stroke. We lost track — or at least I did — of the score during the fourth game so we just stopped keeping it at all. We took turns serving and simply enjoyed the day and each other's company.
Another thing I enjoyed was the sight of Serena over there on the other side of the court. She'd chosen a lime green top and the nearly obligatory pleated skirt of the same color. The skirt left her long tanned legs very bare and gave me tantalizing glimpses of her contrasting white panties and nicely rounded butt. Come to think of it, maybe that was why she beat me — my mind was certainly not on tennis all the time.
I got the feeling that she could have gone on playing until it got dark, but I was more out of shape than I thought. I worked up a heavy sweat and my legs were getting tired. Finally I called a halt. "I concede, Serena," I called to her. Her teeth gleamed when she grinned her acceptance of my defeat. I went up to the net and she met me there. "I don't know about you, but I need a shower," I told her. I was just about to suggest we use the club facilities but she did something that surprised me.
She took both my hands and pulled me to her. Her lips were warm and tasted salty from her sweat. I felt lightheaded and let her tongue invade my mouth. Her breasts pressed into my chest and I sucked on her tongue. We held hands as we walked together to the end of the net. As we were drying our faces Serena said, "I didn't bring anything else to wear."
It had completely slipped my mind to tell her to bring something to wear for dinner. I suggested we both go home. We could shower and change, and I could pick her up. "Maybe you'd rather go someplace else to eat," I offered. But she had a better idea.
"Maybe we can both grab a shower at your place, Drew. Then we could just order a pizza or something if you have beer to go with it."
I glanced up, surprised — well, not completely surprised after that kiss. I'd expected I'd have to wait before we reached this point. As I said above, I don't think I'm a fool, (no matter what you decide) so I smiled back and said, "That's the best idea I've heard all day. Pizza and beer: you're a woman after my own heart, Serena." We picked up our bags and headed for the clubhouse.
The apartment the company found for me is a two bedroom place. It's not a luxury penthouse, but it's a better place than I'd been able to afford back home. The best part is the spacious balcony outside my west facing window. I'd spent a few bucks on patio furniture and two fair sized palm trees in heavy pots. I spent a lot of time out there.
Serena followed me out there after I'd poured some drinks. The shower was still on the agenda but she wanted to see the view first. Since we were equally sweaty her heated scent didn't bother me. I knew I smelled, too, but it was a fresh, honestly earned sweat. I put my arms around her from behind and kissed the side of her neck. She sighed and reached behind her leg to grip my thigh. She pressed me tighter against her. I knew she could feel my growing erection through my shorts.
.... There is more of this story ...