Stream of consciousness

A walk in solitude under an evening rain always puts me in an introspective frame of mind. My breathing slows and my thoughts turn to images and story lines of fantasy that bring a warm rush and shiver. It is the same if I am near the ocean, sitting on the sand or on a sea wall staring out over the waves. It must be simply the presence and sound of water because I get much of the same sensations and dream state even in the shower.

Water. Life giving and energizing.

Being together in contact with water, or at least near its presence and sound, brings on the best sex between Angie and me.

Seeing Angie nude in the shower, and listening to the cascading patter of the stream over the both of us brings me to a heightened state of arousal. The glistening slick that sheaths her body proves a lubricious invitation to roam with my hands over her every curve and crevasse. Her smile, from a slightly open mouth, displays her beautiful white teeth and wet lips. I am compelled to kiss her lips and probe her mouth with my tongue. Kneeling, I am able to probe, gently open, and penetrate her in her most sensitive place, and taste a different wetness. I am in love with every part of her being, and this is my body worship of her. Afterward in our bedroom, we touch and stroke for a while that seems timeless. We move slowly but inexorably toward a greater frenzy, seeking the most intimate contact and release within the arms of one another, then to return to our earlier stroking, and to the body worship that Angie deserves so much from me.