You moaned ever so gently, then stepped back to slip your shoulders and arms from your gown. It slipped to the sand, its soggy mass no resemblance to the flowing windswept drape in which I first saw your. You slid my shirt over my head and dropped it with your gown. Another kiss, and you slowly slid my pants down my legs. You stepped back, giving me space to step out of the soaking wet, clinging pants legs. You were a vision, your long curly golden hair lying flat where the rain had pasted it to your skin. Your fair skin looked as it never saw the sun. Your blue eyes nearly lit up in the dark of the storm. You drew near again, turned your back to me as before, and settled into the shelter of my arms, to watch the sea. The storm surge hurled massive waves towards the beach, but none managed to reach us with more than an ankle’s deep ebb. Lightning flashed all around, illuminating our encounter with brilliant flashes of its electric blue. The wind drove into us, between us, and. ‘Uhm, Mrs Stotter, could I get you to check where the coffee pot is plugged in with me? I thought it might have a loose wire yesterday and wouldn’t want it to start a fire.’ ‘Sure, Robert. It wasn’t smoking or anything, was it?’ ‘No, ma’am, but it looked like part of the six-way plug was loose. She stood and followed him into the supply closet. Robert pulled the cords out of the six-way plug, including the coffee pot, then pulled the six-way out of the wall and let it slip to the floor. ‘Oops. I dropped it. Could you pick it up for me?’ Barbara raised her eyebrows — Robert was perfectly fine to bend over and pick it up himself — but after a moment, she knelt to retrieve it. Robert quickly studied the back of her skirt as best he could — there did not APPEAR to be any panty lines. ‘Robert?’ ‘Ma’am?’ That was a wrinkle to the side of her hip, not a panty line. ‘Are you trying to stare at my ass?’ ‘No!’ His eyes widened and he jerked them away from her and to the floor. ‘No, ma’am!’ She.
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