The
Written Word
When
I was in Northern Ireland I met Claudia, a journalist working for the
BBC. She was from Brazil, beautiful and we became close friends. She
lived in London and whenever I was in this city we would spend time
together. We traveled together, partied together, shared stories from
our past and stories from where we lived. It was always a grand time
and I will cherish memories forever. One evening while indulging in a
nice bottle of wine she recanted an experience she had, alone near a
secluded beach in Brazil.
To the north of Rio de Janeiro there is a beach, a hidden place with few people ever finding its beauty. Claudia found it and with the common custom of Brazil, she removed her bikini top and slipped into the cool waters of the Atlantic.
She explained what a wonderful feeling being in the water was, a spiritual time where she was alone with nature. The water became erotic, then sensual and as a sexual experience started to take her she slipped off her bottoms and was totally nude, nothing between her sensitive skin and the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Swimming, turning, rolling, diving deep into the water, and then returning to the surface to breathe, over and over she repeated her movements in a sensual water dance. Time slipped by, she was oblivious to everything but the erotic feeling as the motion of water flowed around her skin that encased her sensual feelings. The water was her lover, teasing, caressing, and stroking her with a thousand sensual fingers until she exploded with the most intense orgasm she had ever felt.
Slowly and reluctantly she emerged form the water. Droplets of salt water ran off her brown skin as the sun turned them to diamonds before they hit the sand. Turning she looked over her shoulder towards the water. Sitting there in the calm waters of the cove was a small worn fishing boat with an old man of the sea watching her leave the water. His age had not softened the life in his eyes, nor the passion in his heart. Knowingly he smiled. It was more than just the sight of her body that he admired. He knew she had experienced the ocean in a way few can ever dream of. He was her witness as she made love to nature.
To the north of Rio de Janeiro there is a beach, a hidden place with few people ever finding its beauty. Claudia found it and with the common custom of Brazil, she removed her bikini top and slipped into the cool waters of the Atlantic.
She explained what a wonderful feeling being in the water was, a spiritual time where she was alone with nature. The water became erotic, then sensual and as a sexual experience started to take her she slipped off her bottoms and was totally nude, nothing between her sensitive skin and the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Swimming, turning, rolling, diving deep into the water, and then returning to the surface to breathe, over and over she repeated her movements in a sensual water dance. Time slipped by, she was oblivious to everything but the erotic feeling as the motion of water flowed around her skin that encased her sensual feelings. The water was her lover, teasing, caressing, and stroking her with a thousand sensual fingers until she exploded with the most intense orgasm she had ever felt.
Slowly and reluctantly she emerged form the water. Droplets of salt water ran off her brown skin as the sun turned them to diamonds before they hit the sand. Turning she looked over her shoulder towards the water. Sitting there in the calm waters of the cove was a small worn fishing boat with an old man of the sea watching her leave the water. His age had not softened the life in his eyes, nor the passion in his heart. Knowingly he smiled. It was more than just the sight of her body that he admired. He knew she had experienced the ocean in a way few can ever dream of. He was her witness as she made love to nature.