Thursday, June 18, 2009

All Things Bright and Beautiful

I enjoyed my weekend at the beach so much in my last post that I went back for a week. Aaaahhhh.....the blazing sun, the ash gray skies, on more occasions than our white guests would have liked, and the alcohol.....my new found drink is a Lime daiquiri...mmmm. I've never really appreciated the smell or taste of white rum, for a myriad of reasons including a father who didn't know when to say when, but DAMN...that drink is good.

Mi bruk out pan di beach, sang the nighttime bond fire songs with zest and zeal and learned how to "cock it, cock it, cock it up gal" (the dance...dirty minds:) Yep I was once again fancy free with my sister in tow and a girlfriend too. It was great.

The eye candy was wondrous and I learnt how to appreciate built bodies of different hues. One guy, unknown to him of course, teased me the whole week and were I not a sweet, trying to live right girl, I would have made my advances, but, he and his girl seemed quite into each other so I chilled and just admired his body on the odd ten or so occasions. Once, having jogged to the gym, sweaty and completly out of breath...I hate cardio...I bounced through the door to see him and the gym instructor who, were it not for his height challenges, would have also been a prime candidate for me...in another life.

The hymn "All things bright and beautiful..." played over and over in my mind as I soaked in the image of his dark skin, sweaty T, arms and chest bursting from the self inflicted abuse of the free weights, and I thanked God, the cycle machines over looked the tennis court instead of the ceiling to floor mirrors which gave me too inspiration to conjour up images of his body really pumping.

Now, this girl has been good for a good while or so, being hard up would have been more than an understatement, but I trusted myself to be good. I got into the zone very quickly and blocked the sound and thoughts of him out of my mind. My focus was so great that I barely heard when the instructor asked if I was alright....having noticed my eyes tightly shut and my legs rotating the pedals of the cycle like a possesed amazon being...Damnit, he broke my stride. I nodded breathlessly and he handed me a bottle of water to replenish my lungs and thighs.

Stepping away from the unit, to stretch for my second round, I glimpsed the Herculean arms from the corner of my eye. Mmmm...mmmm good, I thought as he effortlessly curled what seemed to be at least 40 bounds. Fleetingly, a thought of him on top of me and my lungs being crushed for a more pleasurable purpose, but I returned to my bike...now there was more than calories from the buffet at lunch that I needed to work off.

I lasted a mere 30 minutes and gave up when I couldn't feel my thighs and butt anymore. I smiled at the attendant and thanked him for the help and sustaining fluid and headed for a clothes change to hit the openish sea.

With a one piece on and a sarong covering most of me at least, I took the 20 steps to the beach. It was refreshing. I hailed my sister who was hoping to squeeze the last minutes of sun that remained and we had a swim and chat while while watching a few men watch her melon like chest bobb up and down to the rhythm of waves. Men are shameless....a feature I quite admire.

While the poolside filled with hungry being to be fed, and the local version of a Cabana boy came milling around, we packed it up for the evening and headed into the Bungalow for a shower and change. Its amazing how the vacation you abhors the thought of lengthy fabric clinging to your body. I opted instead for a simple dress, short but sweet. Accenting my curves and shaving a few years off my appearance I thought....I was ready for the thrills of the night.

Dinner was good....Hotels I find have a plethora of salads and protein to choose from...I was in heaven..ish. I couldn't shake the vibe of wanting to be in a mans arms, feeling him holding me tight and it didn't help to see couples at every turn. Grudgeful and badmind, my sister told me
and I agreed wholeheartedly.

With sustenance in us and an idle spirit to appease we sauntered over to the bar at the far side (the real adult section) and were entertained by the twisting mystery wiles of Storm and Hurricane.....lets just say that I now know why old men will always choose young girls. I soaked as much of the positions, gyrations and general expertise an had to concede that while I was sure I could out manoeuvre the Storm and win my man with intellectual mind games, she could in one felt swoop trap him each swing of her well shaped hips. The bitch.

.......

No comments: