I stood at the window, looking out across the beach and the ocean, watching as the sun approached the horizon. On this small Mediterranean island, no one but my loving husband was around to see my full nudity, unless one counted the birds that occasionally flew past my view of the sunset. There was a lone boat passing slowly by in the distance, its single sail raised high into the sky, but even if anyone on the boat thought to look toward the small abode, I doubted that even binoculars would allow me to be seen behind the window in the dim room.
I was physically and mentally exhausted. Our sunset-to-sunrise sexathon was nearing its end, yet despite the rawness I felt between my legs, my body still craved more, still yearned for that one final climax. And, given how my husband's manhood was lengthening against my back as his arms enveloped me with love and security, I knew that he felt the same.
Sunset Rubdown tourdates:
