Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Interracial, Black Female, Oriental Male, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - In a little town on the French Riviera, Harry Zheng met Vannie Wilson. Neither of them could guess the adventure that would follow.
I have an active imagination. I'm not sure if it's hereditary or just one of those things that comes with being a healthy, heterosexual, perpetually horny Chinese-American man. I keep having this vision. Sometimes it appears during my sleep, and sometimes during the day when I lose focus on what I'm doing and start to daydream.
The dream is a woman, of course, naked, standing on a sandy beach, the hot sun beating down on her. Her back is to me, her legs spread about a foot, and her arms are outstretched with her hands limply hanging down. Her head is turned, and I can see one eye as she looks back over her shoulder at me with the sexiest look you could possibly imagine. Oh yes ... she is black and her body is shiny, as if it had been oiled.
She has one of "those" bodies. Perfection! Fabulous hips and glorious ass. Long, beautifully tapered legs with sculpted calves. I can see little of her breasts, but I'm sure they are faultless as well. Her shimmering black hair is slightly more than shoulder length, falling in sensuous waves as it caresses her skin.
I was sitting in a sidewalk café in Ste. Maxime, France, when she walked by. It isn't very often that I am totally distracted by a woman, but in this case it was no ordinary woman. In the three or four seconds that I saw her, I had already concluded that she was my version of the perfect female form. She was the woman in my dreams.
The brain can assimilate a lot of information in a very short period of time, and mine was currently in overdrive as she turned and stepped into the café. She was about six feet tall, extraordinarily voluptuous in every dimension, and blessed with a flawless dark chocolate complexion. Expensively dressed in business attire, she had a large, black leather handbag slung over her shoulder, black patent high heels, and my last glimpse of her was her shiny black hair in a cut reaching just past her shoulders. Strikingly familiar.
I turned my attention back to yesterday's European edition of the New York Times. I'd read the first sentence for almost the tenth time when I saw her walk out of the shop toward the sidewalk tables, a cup and saucer in hand, searching for a seat. A quick look told me there were none, and before anyone else could pre-empt me, I stood and gestured to the open chair at my table.
She smiled, capturing me by that simple gesture. She walked toward me, accepting my offer. I was surprised at her size. She was only a couple of inches shorter than my six-foot-four.
"Bonjour," I said, using one of only a handful of French words I knew.
"Hi yourself," she smiled again.
"You're not French," I reasoned instantly.
"Ha, no ... and neither are you with that accent."
I waited for her to be seated before I sat. "I'm Harry Zheng," I said, offering my hand.
"Savannah Wilson," she replied, taking it gently.
"You're dressed for business, not as a tourist."
"Yes, I'm a representative for a cosmetics company. I'm here to help launch a new product line."
"Huh! The last thing I would expect would be an American showing the French how to sell perfume."
"The times are changing, Harry. This part of the world is full of very discriminating women who only want the latest and best. They don't really care where it comes from any more."
"How's it going?"
"Very well, thank you. Of course, it never hurts when some of the glitterati at Cannes feature your product. We're doing fine. I'll hate to finish up, really. I'm enjoying the south of France and this lovely May weather."
"I know what you mean. Where are you from, New York?"
"No ... not at all. Naples, Florida. And you?"
"San Francisco, originally, but Seattle right now. Just about as far from Naples as you can get."
"And what brings you to Ste. Maxime?"
"Just cruising around, looking for something to do."
"You don't look like you're a typical underemployed."
"Yeah ... well ... it's a long story."
"I've got some time. Tell me about it."
She seemed to be sincere and since she was far and away the best looking woman I'd had a conversation with in many moons, I went for it.
"I am ... or was ... a marine biologist. I worked for the University of Washington, gathering and identifying specimens in the North Pacific. It's what I always thought I wanted to do, so when I got my masters, I just stayed on as a paid employee.
"What I didn't realize was the amount of time I would be spending on an eighty-foot boat in forty-foot waves in the Gulf of Alaska. I toughed it out for a couple of years, but cramped quarters and constantly battling the elements just wore me out. It was never a fun job, but I was determined to follow my dream. Now that I've done that, it's on to something else."
"Wow! I can get seasick just listening to that."
I nodded solemnly. "You don't know the definition of seasick until you've been where I've been."
"No need to explain," she said quickly.
I laughed. I was enjoying our conversation.
"So, where do you go next? Back to Naples?"
"No ... Monte Carlo, then Milan, Rome, then Naples ... the one in Italy."
"Another ten days. It isn't hard. It's almost like a vacation. I don't dare tell the other girls how much I'm enjoying this when I get back to the office."
She paused, sipping her espresso, just looking me over I suppose.
"What's next for you?" she asked at length.
"Don't know. I haven't been to Monte Carlo yet, so I'll stop there. Then ... I'm not sure. I really don't have any plan."
"It's not cheap in this part of the world. Are you looking for work?"
"Not really. I lost my parents a few months ago, and that prompted me to quit the job and look after their estate. When that was done, I just wanted to get away on my own, see the world."
"I'm sorry ... about your parents."
"Yeah ... me too. They were on their annual vacation. Their plane crashed in the Indian Ocean ... near the Seychelles. It was a big shock to me, my sisters, and my grandparents."
"Oh ... that must have been hard. I lost my dad a few years ago. I know how hard that was on Mom ... and me. We weren't expecting it. He just dropped one day."
"Yeah. I was thinking though ... my parents ... if they had to go, I'm kind of glad they went together. I don't think either one would have survived without the other. They were so close ... for so long."
"You said you have sisters?"
"Yeah ... two ... Jeannie is the oldest. She's married with two children, a boy and a girl. She still lives in the San Francisco area. Her husband is some kind of earthquake specialist doing construction work. Charlie ... Charlotte ... has just finished college. She's busy saving the world. You know ... Ban the Whales, Save the Bomb ... that stuff," I joked. "She's either going to join the Peace Corps, Doctors without Borders, or the Red Brigade. I can't tell which."
Savannah was laughing at my description of my younger sister. "She's a little bit left-wing, huh?"
"Yeah ... just like Genghis Kahn was a moderate conservative."
My charming dark companion was laughing and enjoying our little conversation. She had perfect brilliant white teeth which contrasted beautifully with her dark-skinned features. She was incredibly lovely in every way.
"Are you working nearby?" I asked, attempting to keep the exchange going.
"No ... in St. Tropez this afternoon. I told you, this isn't a very demanding job."
"Is it always like this? I mean ... easy?"
"Yeah, to tell the truth, it is. I'm hired because they think I project the right image for the company. I look right, I talk right, I dress right ... you know ... all the superficial things you need to sell a superficial product." She said it with a hint of disapproval.
"What would you rather be doing, if not this?"
"I don't know. Something more ... worthwhile, I suppose. This is so shallow. Dress nice, put on a big smile, pass out some samples, get some pictures taken with celebrities and show the product name ... you know ... that kind of shallow."
I nodded in understanding. Glamour had its shortcomings, it appeared. "Well, for what it's worth, you look fabulous. If I were a celebrity, I'd want to get my picture taken with Savannah Wilson. It would be good for my image ... and my ego."
"That's a very nice compliment. Thank you," she smiled.
"When are you going to Monte Carlo?"
"Tomorrow. A car will pick me up and take me there. I don't think it's very far from here."
"Where are you staying tonight?"
"At the Azur in St. Tropez. It's very nice. What about you? Where are you staying?"
"Don't know. Haven't looked yet. I should be able to find something."
"If you have a problem ... there's room at the Azur. It's expensive though. Maybe a little rich for you right now," she said cautiously.
"Not a problem. If you're going to be there, maybe I can talk you into having dinner with me." I was curiously calm about this invitation. She should have had me shaking in my boots — as attractive as she was.
"Are you sure? You said you were unemployed. You don't want to spend all your money in one night."
"I'm fine. I was the executor and chief beneficiary of my father's will. He ran a very large, very successful import business. I'm on this trip to try and make up my mind what to do with the rest of my life. I'm financially set ... enough that I don't have to work if I don't want to. I need something to keep me occupied. I just haven't decided what it is yet."
"I guess in a way, that's good, Harry. You can take your time to decide. No pressure. Look until you find something."
"Yeah. That's the plan. I'm not cut out to be a businessman. I don't have the right instincts. But I don't want to be just another playboy, piddling away my inheritance. I would like to find something that's significant."
"I feel the same way. This job ... it doesn't make me feel like I'm accomplishing anything. I should be jumping for joy. A chance to travel and meet interesting and glamorous people, well paid, a big clothing allowance. It should be everything I ever wanted. But ... it doesn't seem very important. If I'm just a pretty face, then ... well ... as I said ... it's pretty shallow." Savannah seemed a bit down as she talked.
"OK then ... how about this big Chinese guy takes you out for a nice dinner? Maybe we can find a jazz club or a night club and have a bit of fun? If that doesn't work ... heck ... there's always tomorrow and Monte Carlo," I grinned.
"Yeah ... let's do that Harry. At least I won't have to struggle having a conversation. I'm still trying to learn enough French to make a reasonable presentation." Savannah was rolling her eyes as she spoke.
"Don't look to me for help. I've only been in France since last Sunday, so you heard a big part of my vocabulary when I said hello."
"How are you getting around? Do you have a car?"
"Yeah. I have a rental. Lots of room for you if you want a ride after you're finished."
She didn't hesitate. "Great. Why don't we meet here about one o'clock. I'm sure I'll be done by then."
"Sure. I'm just going to wander around the town. See the sights."
"Me too. Why don't we do that together?"
"Done! It'll be good to have some company ... especially such good-looking company." I hoped I wasn't laying it on too thickly.
I guess I should describe myself, so you can get an idea of who Savannah was looking at. I mentioned I'm six-four, about two-twenty. I let my hair grow long when I was on the boat, and when I came ashore, I had it cut to the back of my neck, but left it long otherwise. It's thick and jet black of course, so it wasn't a problem just to comb it straight back. When I looked in a mirror, I didn't think I'd frighten anyone.
I have all my own teeth and they're mostly straight. I had picked up a bit of frostbite on my ears and cheekbones, and the skin was a bit mottled as a result, but not so badly that it would bother anyone. My complexion was a bit darker, thanks to all the outdoor activity and the fact that my ancestors were from southern China. All in all, I cleaned up fairly well.
As we left the little café, she slipped her hand into mine and looked at me with a smile. She was telling me she was comfortable with me, I suppose. Comfortable is good. I was anything but comfortable. My erection, which had been coming and going in her presence over the last half hour, was now reasserting itself. But something else was happening too.
The woman in my recurring dream. The black woman with the shining skin on the sandy beach, walking into the blazing sun. She was back. The image was vivid as I walked quietly with Savannah along the narrow ancient street.
I must have been frowning and Savannah picked up on it.
"Huh? Oh ... nothing. Just something I was thinking about. No problem." I smiled, perhaps not quite the same way as I normally would.
Savannah looked a bit dubious, but said nothing.
"It's warm for this time of year, isn't it?" she commented.
"I think so. The tourists usually wait until June, but my guide book said it gets so crowded that it's takes away from the experience ... whatever that means."
She nodded agreement. "Yeah. Naples is like that in the winter and early spring. So many visitors from the north, most of them well off and older though."
"Well, it's not something you and I have to work on, is it?" As soon as I said it I cringed, hoping I hadn't offended her. Her tinkling laugh put me at ease.
We wandered through the mid-town streets, admiring the ever-present displays of bougainvillea and hanging plants with their brilliant color. I could smell the sea, but it took us a few minutes to find a portal to the waterfront. We were near a very large marina, and when I looked at the guidebook map I realized we were less than two blocks from the café where we began our stroll.
It was nearing noon. I suggested we stop for a light lunch, and Savannah agreed. We found a very nice little bistro. We dared to have a glass of wine with a light salad, some cheese and a fresh baguette. I must have been smiling through the entire lunch, because Savannah was watching me and reacting to my mood.
"You have been grinning like a Cheshire cat for the entire lunch, Harry. What's going through that fertile mind of yours?" Savannah was smiling just as much, of course.
"Hah ... I guess I'm pretty transparent, huh? I was just thinking how much I am enjoying this. It's the first time in a while that I've really had a chance to relax and appreciate what's going on around me. I've been pretty tied up in my own little world. You seem to have found the key to kick me out of it."
"Good. I'm glad. You look so much more handsome when you smile," she said shyly.
"Thank you. I'll try to do it more often if you like, Savannah."
She looked at me, just a flicker of a smile on her lips. "My friends call me Vannie. I think you can consider yourself a friend."
"Thank you, again. I'm honored." I flashed my biggest smile. I raised my glass in salute and she responded. "I'm afraid that just plain old Harry is all anyone calls me."
"Didn't your mother call you Harold when she got upset with you?"
"No, Harry is my full, proper name. Different, huh?"
She shrugged. She looked at her watch and I got the hint.
"Time to go. We're only five minutes from my car, so we'll be in St. Tropez in plenty of time for your appointment."
"Good. Let's go. If my meeting doesn't last too long, we can check you into the hotel and go for a swim on the beach. Then we can eat and play later," she said brightly.
"I'm with you." I stood and steadied her chair as she rose. I marvelled at how well she had navigated some of the old stone sidewalks on her high heels. It was hardly ideal footwear for this town.
It was barely a fifteen minute drive to the harbor in St. Tropez, and with almost an hour to kill, we decided I would check into the Hotel Azur, unload my overnight bag and park the car. We could retrieve it later if we needed it.
As soon as I was checked in, it was time for Savannah to go to her meeting. She chose to take a cab for the five minute ride. I promised I would meet her back at the Azur when she was done. The more I thought about it, the more a swim in the Mediterranean was appealing, especially if Savannah chose to wear a bikini.
I waved as she left in the cab and went inside to find the concierge. I needed a swimsuit and he pointed to the shop adjacent to the lobby. No need to go anywhere, it seemed. I walked in and began to look among the shelves. An attractive older woman approached me.
"May I help you, Monsieur?"
I was pleased that she spoke English and asked her about swim suits. I had in mind a pair of baggy shorts, but she frowned and shook her head.
"No, Monsieur. That will not do for you. You are too handsome. You would look much better in these," she said, holding up a suit that was little more than a jockstrap. I must have looked aghast because she laughed.
"Do not be embarrassed. All the handsome men wear these. Even some of the not-so-handsome men."
I shook my head and she frowned, but then smiled. "Perhaps this, then," she said, holding up something I would have called a Speedo. At least it offered some cover at the back. I looked at it, vacillating back and forth about what Vannie might think, but gradually, under the approving eye of the clerk, I succumbed, and she smiled.
I went to my room to try the suit on and after looking in the full length mirror, I decided that if it wasn't indecent, it was not far from it by American standards. However, this was France, and if it was OK with them, it wouldn't get me in trouble. I stepped into a pair of cargo shorts and pulled on a t-shirt and my almost-new sandals. With one more look in the mirror, I picked up my wallet, passport, Euros, room key, and sunglasses and headed downstairs. I had at least an hour to kill after checking my valuables with the front desk. I wandered along the waterfront and enjoyed the view.
For the next day or so, I would be in the company of Savannah Wilson, a woman of extraordinary beauty. She must be quite well respected by her company if she could be sent to a foreign country on her own to promote new products. What was even more remarkable was her interest in me. I didn't think I was typical companion material for her.
I lost track of time, but I hadn't gone so far down the avenue that I couldn't stroll back to the hotel and arrive before Savannah. I don't recall much of the sights because I was thinking about other things ... or more correctly ... Savannah.
I didn't know if we would catch up to each other in Monte Carlo, but it was worth a try. As for Milan, Rome, and Naples, I doubted I would be seeing her there. Maybe I could look her up when she got back home to Florida.
I wasn't really surprised that she was dominating my thoughts. That's to be expected when I thought about how gorgeous she was. But she was also very down-to-earth. I didn't get any sense of the prima donna about her. I would love to know her background. It must have been unusual to produce such an interesting woman.
I sat in the lobby for fifteen minutes before Savannah arrived. She looked cool and collected as she strode purposefully through the foyer toward me. I got a big smile from her as I stood, and she surprised me by giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"You must have had a very successful meeting," I suggested.
"Yes, I did! Very successful! I think my boss will be very pleased when I e-mail her tonight. But that can wait. I'm going up to my room to change. Are you ready to go for a swim?"
"Yes, ma'am, I certainly am."
"Good. Wait here and I'll be right down."
With that, she was off to the elevator and I sat down once more, knowing from experience that "I'll be right down" could mean anything from fifteen minutes to an hour. I would be patient. I knew the wait would be worth it.
Savannah surprised me. She was back in less than ten minutes and I was right. The wait was more than worth it. She was wearing a diaphanous wrap with wide loose sleeves that came to her elbows and a hemline somewhere near the base of her butt cheeks. Beneath it, I could see a dark colored bikini of scant proportions. Throw in a big, floppy straw hat and sunglasses, and we were ready to go.
As she turned to walk to the entrance, I immediately saw that the bottom of her bikini didn't cover anything in back. It was no more than a thong with a thin, dark strip around her waist and another thin dark strip rising up from between her cheeks to meet it. I now knew what kind of trouble I was going to be in. My swim suit wasn't going to be able to contain my enthusiasm for her appearance. Right now, the cargo shorts camouflaged the issue, but when it came time to reveal all, I was going to be in trouble. Or so I thought.
Savannah pranced out to the sidewalk and immediately a cab appeared. I was not surprised. We slid in together and she told the driver where she wanted to go. He gave us both a good long look, shook his head, and pulled away from the curb.
"The concierge told me about this beach. It's clothing optional," she smirked. "Does that bother you?"
"Uhhhmmm ... well ... I can't say I've had any experience ... but hell, if you're OK with it, then let's do it." I was talking more bravely than I was feeling. Clothing optional? Did that mean tops and bottoms? Men too? Oh well ... nothing ventured. Besides, I'd get to see all of Savannah Wilson, and that would be worth any amount of embarrassment.
I don't think the cab ride lasted five minutes and we were deposited in front of a screened area just outside of the town. It was a private beach, and apparently we were entitled to use it because we were guests of Azur. I paid the driver, and as we walked through the baffle I noticed the beach wasn't very crowded. At four o'clock on a warm May afternoon, I expected there might be more people.
Savannah had brought a canvas tote bag with towels and sunscreen. She walked down to the beach and looked around for a likely spot. We had plenty to choose from. She looked at me, shrugged, and walked about fifty yards west before stopping to see who was nearby. The answer was ... no one. She put down the bag, untied the sash on her wrap and folded it, putting it in the canvas bag. The hat followed and then the sunglasses.
"Help me with the sunscreen please, Harry," she said as she handed me the container.
I gingerly squeezed some out into my hand and began to spread it across her shoulders and down her back. Her bikini top had what I could only describe as a thick thread across the back and very little more in front. As I looked over her shoulder, I could see almost an entire breast swaying as I rubbed the lotion into her back.
Now the moment of truth. I delayed the inevitable and began putting lotion on her calves and thighs, working my way up.
"Make sure you put lots on my ass, Harry. Nothing worse than a burned butt for sitting down." She seemed so calm about it that I was encouraged to proceed.
I'm not really an ass man ... more like an all-around man. I love a nice set of breasts, a slightly rounded belly, strong thighs and prominent calf muscles. But Savannah's ass was something to behold. If they were looking for a prototype to model for the perfect booty, she had it. I began to apply the lotion and my cock was so damn hard I could barely stand it.
"Oh ... that feels good, Harry. Just like a nice massage." She was looking over her shoulder at me. "Now it's my turn. Get rid of the t-shirt and shorts," she said nonchalantly.
Oh! Oh! This was going to be difficult. I willed myself to be calm and slowly pulled the t-shirt up over my head. I turned my back to Savannah, undid the button, unzipped the fly, and let the shorts drop to my feet.
"Oh ... nice ass, Harry." She planted both hands on my butt and began to squeeze. "I like the suit, too. Fits you perfectly in back. Very sexy."
"Thanks," I squawked. I could feel the cool lotion as she began to rub it into my shoulders and work her way down my back. She seemed to spend a fair amount of time on my ass, but that may have been my imagination. In any event, she was very thorough and of course, my erection was now pushing upward against the top band of the swim suit.
"There!" she said, smacking my ass playfully as she finished. "Want to do my front?" she teased.
"Uh ... I think you and I can manage our own," I said, embarrassed at my wimpy answer.
"Yeah ... but it might be more fun the other way." Again, I could tell she was teasing, if not outright taunting me.
"Oh, Harry. I seem to have your attention," she said seductively, reaching for the front of my trunks and giving my manhood a squeeze.
"Vannie! Don't do that. You'll get us arrested." I had no idea if that was true, but she was really pushing my comfort envelope this afternoon and I was wondering why. That is, I was wondering during the few lucid moments I was having.
"Come on, Harry. Let's go for a walk along the beach. It's such a beautiful afternoon and we're here on the French Riviera, staying in a five star hotel and having a great time. At least ... I am. Are you having a good time, Harry?"
"Yeah. I am. But you are a tease, you know. You like pushing my buttons to see what will happen, don't you."
"I'm not all tease, Harry. I'm just having some fun with a guy I like, who needs to have some fun too. You've had a tough time lately, losing your parents. It's time to relax and get a little reckless," she said, turning to me and speaking seriously.
"Well, if reckless is the idea ... then I'm with the right girl."
She gave me a huge smile. "Atta boy, Harry. Reckless it is!" And with that, she pulled the end of the tie on her bikini top and shrugged it off.
"What do you think of these?" she asked, looking down at her breasts, cradled in her hands.
"Fabulous!" They were, too.
"I just love it when they're free. Free! Free like a bird!" she shouted and began to run down the beach, her arms outstretched, flapping occasionally.
I stood stock still. A chill ran through me. She stopped when she sensed I wasn't following her, and with her arms out, hands pointing to the sand, she turned her head and looked back at me. The sun shone brilliantly in front of us, the sea almost coppery-gold, the silhouette of Savannah turning her skin black, shining with lotion.
She turned back, tilting her arms like an airplane making a turn, and ran to the sea. I ran after her. Now I remembered the rest of the dream. I would follow her into the sea, but I wouldn't be able to find her. I would dive and call and search, but she was nowhere to be found.
That was where the fear was centered. So many times had I awoken in a cold sweat, reliving the frustration of not finding her. And now ... it was happening in real time. I ran as fast as I was able, crashing into the light surf, chasing the naked woman of my dream. My nightmare! I had to stop her.
She was taunting me as I crashed toward her, moving as quickly as I could against the drag of the water. I caught her when she was almost chest deep in the little swells, her two beautiful brown globes bobbing. I grasped her around her waist and lifted her, pulling her to me and holding her tightly.
"Harry! What are you doing, Harry!" she gasped, unsure if I was playing or not.
"I couldn't let you disappear. I couldn't lose you again. I had to save you."
"What are you talking about? Save me?"
I was breathing heavily from the exertion and gradually it dawned on me that this wasn't what it seemed to be. I had confused reality with my dream. I had reacted to an imaginary stimulus and I had probably frightened Savannah.
"I'm sorry, Vannie. I'll try and explain, but not now. I need to get my head straight."
"Yeah, I can see that. But since you're here, and since I'm safe now, why don't we have some playtime?"
With one arm wrapped around my neck, she reached down and grasped my now-deflated cock and squeezed it. It started to respond immediately. Her breasts were pushing into my shoulders and I was holding her underneath her buttocks, lifting her against me. As I walked with her, she got lighter as we moved a bit further out into the water. Her buoyancy was helping me.
"You're going to drive me crazy, Vannie. You can't tease a man like this and not expect something drastic to happen."
"Oh? What kind of drastic?" she grinned.
"The kind that could get me in a lot of trouble. This swimsuit isn't tall enough to hide everything when you get me going. I don't want to embarrass you."
"I know how to make it go down, Harry."
I looked at her, not daring to challenge her. I shouldn't have bothered. She reached down again, sliding her hand inside the top of my suit and grasping my cock firmly. Pulling it up and out of its confinement, she pushed the top of my suit down, leaving my rigid cock and scrotum exposed.
She had a wicked grin on her face and I knew I might as well surrender, since she had complete control of the situation. I felt her push her thong aside and before I could react, she pushed the head of my cock into her pussy and began to sink down on it.
"Oh, Harry. That feels sooooo good. I'm so horny, Harry. I had to have you. It's all I've been thinking about all afternoon. You feel fantastic. It feels so good. Thank you, Harry," she crooned.
I began to kiss her and she responded passionately. My hands were full of her ass cheeks and now I was contributing to our joining, pulling her up and letting her down as we moved silently into each other. I had no idea if anyone on shore could make out what we were doing, but I was long past caring. This was out of my control.
The way we were going at it, I wouldn't have been surprised if someone on the beach had hollered "surf's up!" Savanna was hanging on for dear life and I could hear her grunts of satisfaction as we carried on. Finally, it was coming to an end. I couldn't hold out forever and I had to hope that she got what she wanted. She must have. She went rigid in my arms and then shook when I drove myself into her and held her there as I released.
A few seconds later I felt myself relax and she slowly slipped out of my grasp.
"Have you ever done anything like that before?" she panted.
"No ... never. Not in my wildest dreams."
She laughed. "Neither have I. That was crazy ... but fun."
I looked at the beach to see if anyone was reacting to us. I couldn't see anything unusual. Either it was a common occurrence or no one noticed. My breathing was returning to normal, but I was still holding Savanna in my arms. The water was almost up to her neck, so I began to gradually move us toward shore.
I pulled my suit up to its proper position and held Savannah's hand as we waded slowly ashore. The light breeze was cool on our wet skin as we walked back to the bag and the towels. While we dried off, I began to wonder just what had happened between us. I had now identified the dream I had been having, but I was reluctant to tell Savannah about it.
She seemed quite happy and carefree about our passionate encounter, and I think that made it easier on me. I wondered if sex was something common and unimportant to her. I would be disappointed if that were so. It sure wasn't unimportant to me.
She retied her top and then put her wrap on before we began to walk back to the opening in the screen. There was no cab in sight as we got there, but neither of us minded walking back to the hotel.
"Harry ... would you mind staying with me tonight?" she asked after a period of silence.
"You mean ... in your room?" I was not quite sure if she was asking what I thought she was asking.
"Yes." She had stopped and turned toward me. "I get lonely and you and I seem to have something. I don't know just what it is, but I trust you and I like you and I want to be with you tonight."
"How in the world could I possibly say no to you?"
"Good ... it's settled then. I'm glad. All we have to do now is decide where to go to dinner and where to go afterwards."
"I can help with the nightclub," I volunteered. "The concierge knows a place that is the hottest place this side of Cannes."
"Wonderful! Why don't we eat at the hotel? I ate there last night and it was very good."
"Fine with me. As long as I'm with you, I'm sure I'll enjoy myself."
"That's nice, Harry. If feel like that too. Isn't it funny ... we met only a few hours ago and I feel like we've known each other forever."
I had another cold shiver go through me as I thought about the dream and today's reality.
"What is it, Harry? I just felt you shiver. Are you cold?"
"No. It's a strange story. It relates to what happened when you ran into the water today."
"Tell me about it."
I looked at her. I wondered if I wouldn't be ruining the great feeling we had developed.
"I'm not sure I should tell you. It's going to sound very strange ... weird in fact."
She gave me a funny look. "Go ahead. Don't worry about me. I can handle it."
I stopped, moved to a low stone wall, and sat. I took a deep breath.
"Not long after my parents died, I began having a recurring dream. I don't usually remember dreams, but this one was quite vivid, and I was having it over and over again."
I stopped and looked at Vannie. She was paying close attention and I decided to continue. I told her about the vision and the woman and the beach. When I got to the part about this afternoon, I paused again.
"When you ran down the beach and then stopped and looked back, you were duplicating my dream. It was exactly as I remembered it. The sun making your skin look shiny black with the lotion on it. You were naked in the dream and from behind this afternoon, you appeared to be naked. When you ran into the surf, I began to remember the rest of the dream.
"I chased you because in the dream, I couldn't find you. You disappeared. I was actually frightened that it might happen that way. I couldn't take the chance. I had to save you."
"Wow ... Harry ... that's wild. What do you think it means. I mean, dreams always mean something."
I shook my head. "I don't know. I can't figure it out. But what's more disturbing is that I've had this dream for weeks now ... long before I met you. But it was you in that dream."
"That's spooky. I've got to tell Mama about this. She'll know what it means."
"Mama is full of stories about charms and curses and dreams and such. According to her, everything means something. This is really interesting, Harry. Are you frightened by it?"
"No ... not frightened ... maybe just ... shocked. I had that feeling when I saw you for the first time ... walking into the café this morning. Then on the beach, it was an even stronger sensation."
"I got to admit, Harry, you are interesting ... and sexy. I have this feeling that we are going to get along very well."
"That's going to be a bit difficult with you leaving in the morning."
She cocked her head. "Come with me. Or meet me there."
"And when you go to Milan?"
"Harry ... let's work on it. There'll be a way. I know it. I feel it. Just like your dream. You are someone special to me. I don't know how I know it, but I know it."
I laughed. "How could I say no?"
She laughed with me. "Haven't you told me that already?"
We made it back to the hotel and we went to the front desk to make a reservation for dinner at eight. That gave us a couple of hours to relax and save our energy for later. Savannah was threatening to wear me out tonight. I was anxious to find out just how she would go about it.