for that later," he says paying for the five bottles of Blueberry Champagne he ordered.
"Why so much?"
"Because it was your favorite. I need one bottle for you to take home to remember this trip, one for breakfast tomorrow, and the rest we can drink out on the beach tonight."
After the winery we find what looks like a nice restaurant to eat at. Once we were seated, I feel the effects of the wine on my bladder, excuse myself, and make my way to the ladies room.
While I wash my hands, the lady next to me makes eye contact in the mirror as she runs her hands through her hair. She's older, like maybe in her late forties or early fifties.
"Do you see any leaves or twigs in my hair?" she asks.
The question seems so strange and out of the blue I think maybe I drank a lot more than I thought. But the way she keeps trying to turn and look in the mirror at the same time tells me I heard right.
"Not that I can see," I answer while drying my hands.
"Oh good. My boyfriend and I went for a ride on his motorcycle."
I smile, wondering why she feels the need to talk to me. I turn to walk out of the little room, when she touches my arm.
"Did you ever have sex on a motorcycle?"
This is not happening. Random strangers don't approach you and ask questions like this. I wonder if Noah set this up to convince me to get lost in the trees with him, but the lady was in here before me.
"If you haven't, you need to. It's the most amazing sex you'll ever have in your life. You go ride with the wind whipping through your hair, and pull into a shady spot, and then just bouncing up and down on top of him in the open like that, there's nothing like it."
"I'm sorry, my boyfriend is waiting for me. I have to go."
"I'm telling you honey, try it. There's nothing better than a good fuck in the open air."
"Thanks," I answer as I rush through the door.
"Everything okay?" Noah asks when I get back to the table.
I'm about to tell him about the strange encounter I just had, but decide against it. Instead, an idea forms in my head.
"What do you say we have some desert and champagne on the beach tonight?"
"Sounds great."
*
I put my hair up in a sloppy bun, leaving some wisps of hair loose to frame my face. I don't change out the sundress I've had on all day. Noah's commented a few times on how good it looks. He's out on the beach setting everything up. He liked my idea so much, we stopped off on the way back to the house to buy a picnic basket, battery operated candles, and plastic dishes and champagne flutes. Whatever I want, he's more than happy to give me. This is a new concept for me, and I wonder if it will change after tonight. Is this his proven method of getting what he really wants?
In my bare feet, I walk across the boardwalk and down the ramp onto the beach. I'm giddy with anticipation. There's something about taking control that makes my feelings of being beautiful and sexy spike on the confidence meter. Noah is halfway between the shore-line and the boardwalk. There are a few people walking by here and there, but none of them are on the beach. If any are, they aren't in the immediate vicinity, which is what I'm counting on.
Noah's sitting with his legs extended in front of him, leaning back on his hands, his short sleeve, button down shirt hangs out of his shorts and is unbuttoned. It's like a welcome sign. Welcome to Club Noah. I meet his playful eyes, and feel myself drowning in them. The blue of his eyes matches his shirt and is overpowering the green right now. They remind me of the flawless water and beaches of the Caribbean.
"See something you like, pretty lady?" He reaches his hand up for mine.
"Hmm. I do," I answer as he pulls me down next to him. "Something I like a lot."
"Looks like I found your weakness, keep my shirt off and you only have eyes for me."
Once I'm seated, Noah hands me a flute shaped glass full of the blueberry champagne. I drink it all at once, and he refills my glass. The energy between us had changed.
"Why so much?"
"Because it was your favorite. I need one bottle for you to take home to remember this trip, one for breakfast tomorrow, and the rest we can drink out on the beach tonight."
After the winery we find what looks like a nice restaurant to eat at. Once we were seated, I feel the effects of the wine on my bladder, excuse myself, and make my way to the ladies room.
While I wash my hands, the lady next to me makes eye contact in the mirror as she runs her hands through her hair. She's older, like maybe in her late forties or early fifties.
"Do you see any leaves or twigs in my hair?" she asks.
The question seems so strange and out of the blue I think maybe I drank a lot more than I thought. But the way she keeps trying to turn and look in the mirror at the same time tells me I heard right.
"Not that I can see," I answer while drying my hands.
"Oh good. My boyfriend and I went for a ride on his motorcycle."
I smile, wondering why she feels the need to talk to me. I turn to walk out of the little room, when she touches my arm.
"Did you ever have sex on a motorcycle?"
This is not happening. Random strangers don't approach you and ask questions like this. I wonder if Noah set this up to convince me to get lost in the trees with him, but the lady was in here before me.
"If you haven't, you need to. It's the most amazing sex you'll ever have in your life. You go ride with the wind whipping through your hair, and pull into a shady spot, and then just bouncing up and down on top of him in the open like that, there's nothing like it."
"I'm sorry, my boyfriend is waiting for me. I have to go."
"I'm telling you honey, try it. There's nothing better than a good fuck in the open air."
"Thanks," I answer as I rush through the door.
"Everything okay?" Noah asks when I get back to the table.
I'm about to tell him about the strange encounter I just had, but decide against it. Instead, an idea forms in my head.
"What do you say we have some desert and champagne on the beach tonight?"
"Sounds great."
*
I put my hair up in a sloppy bun, leaving some wisps of hair loose to frame my face. I don't change out the sundress I've had on all day. Noah's commented a few times on how good it looks. He's out on the beach setting everything up. He liked my idea so much, we stopped off on the way back to the house to buy a picnic basket, battery operated candles, and plastic dishes and champagne flutes. Whatever I want, he's more than happy to give me. This is a new concept for me, and I wonder if it will change after tonight. Is this his proven method of getting what he really wants?
In my bare feet, I walk across the boardwalk and down the ramp onto the beach. I'm giddy with anticipation. There's something about taking control that makes my feelings of being beautiful and sexy spike on the confidence meter. Noah is halfway between the shore-line and the boardwalk. There are a few people walking by here and there, but none of them are on the beach. If any are, they aren't in the immediate vicinity, which is what I'm counting on.
Noah's sitting with his legs extended in front of him, leaning back on his hands, his short sleeve, button down shirt hangs out of his shorts and is unbuttoned. It's like a welcome sign. Welcome to Club Noah. I meet his playful eyes, and feel myself drowning in them. The blue of his eyes matches his shirt and is overpowering the green right now. They remind me of the flawless water and beaches of the Caribbean.
"See something you like, pretty lady?" He reaches his hand up for mine.
"Hmm. I do," I answer as he pulls me down next to him. "Something I like a lot."
"Looks like I found your weakness, keep my shirt off and you only have eyes for me."
Once I'm seated, Noah hands me a flute shaped glass full of the blueberry champagne. I drink it all at once, and he refills my glass. The energy between us had changed.
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