All the Waters of the Earth

Chapter 32: Connections

"So, as I recall," mused Jake, as he inserted the key into the hotel room door, "one of the items on your wish list — your list of things you write in your books — was sex in a hotel room. Correct?"

I nodded and grinned.

It was the following weekend. Jake's dad had been discharged from the hospital, and was now home and on a slow, but steady recovery. Roberto had gone back to school after winter break. I was almost done with my first draft of my new book. And Jake? He had told me that he gave a few of his cases to other attorneys in his office, so that he could have some more free time. After all, it was not a requirement for him to single-handedly take care of all of the work in the office. Instead of filling up his time with work, he would come over and help make dinner. He even helped Rob construct a papier-mâché volcano for his science fair project, complete with red-painted lava, and well-contoured landscaping.

And he let me take him on vacation. It was one of the few times that he had ever been away for fun; this made it feel very special.

I had wanted to go to a place where we could drive away for the weekend, so we went to Palm Springs, which had lovely weather in winter. While, sure, it had the reputation of being a golfing paradise for the retirement set, it also boasted a thriving gay community, wonderful shops, and cool architecture. It was a whole lot of fun. Deciding that we needed to have the whole mid-century modern experience, I booked us into a boutique hotel near downtown, which was a converted 1950s one-story apartment complex. Built in a square, with a central patio and pool, each hotel "room," was, in reality, a one-bedroom apartment, with a kitschy pink-tiled bathroom, a real, vintage kitchen that included the tiniest stove and refrigerator, and a record player with Frank Sinatra records.

We had the whole weekend to ourselves, and we got to play house in a atomic age apartment. So fun!

The restored, retro apartment had its own private patio, too, on one side, as well as sliding glass doors that opened to the central pool. The owners had built a bar adjacent to the pool, with high tables and a covered patio, and it was used for serving complimentary drinks and appetizers at five. My kind of place.

We set down our bags, took a quick look around, put on a record, and collided into each other. In seconds, we were tumbling out of our clothes. First, my wedge heel espadrilles were off. Next, his shirt, buttons undone, and thrown to the side. Then, his shoes kicked off. He didn't even bother to take his belt out of the loops, he just undid it, unfastened his pants, and they were off. My blousy lavender shirt? Off. My shorts? Off. And then I could feel him, his soft skin running under my fingers, his lips insistent, his hands all over me.

With a flick, he released my lavender bra, and took it off of me, then backed away from me, wearing only his boxers and socks. His eyes raced around my body, lingering on my nipples, my belly button. And then his socks were gone in a flash.

He did a little twirling motion with his fingers, wanting me to spin. As I was wearing just some little lavender panties, I knew that he would get a full view of my ample booty. So I stuck it out, smiled, turned slowly, and gave it to him, and I heard him groan.

"Dat. Ass. Lucy."

When I finished turning, his erection was no longer within his boxers, because his boxers had disappeared. And my beautiful man stood there, naked, wanting me, and I wanted him back.

"Let's get you wet," he muttered, and he walked me backwards to the bed. Perching my booty on the edge of the bed, he gently spread my knees, and then kneeled between my legs. Next, slowing the frenzied tempo that we were in before, he bent forward and let the tip of his tongue softly dance on my pussy, teasing it, teasing me. Darting around, his tongue made me quiver. Then he flattened his tongue, licking the whole length of me, which felt like I was on fire from my toes to my waist. So hot. And then he did it again. After a while I couldn't take it anymore.