Harborside Affair

An Email Letter to Him

By WhiteWave48

*

Now that I've farewelled you at the airport and you're traveling back in time to an earlier day across the Pacific, I'm left with only the memories of our meeting, glowing brighter with each moment and becoming more vivid as they take shape in my mind and crystallize within my soul.

And what surprising memories they are! I still can't believe that you and I, two strangers attending a natural health convention over one weekend, could make love 'au naturel' among the bushes by the harbor a week later. It was pure chance that we met at all.

Standing in line to register at the Darling Harbor Convention Centre in Sydney, I was feeling comfortable in my casual gear and was glad I'd worn tennis shoes to walk my way through all those displays laid out in such a huge space.

It was amazing how so many health disciplines could come together under one roof to show how they care for the mind and the body - from Kinesiology to Herbs, Shiatsu to Zen, Acupuncture to just a damn good diet.

Then there were the lectures on offer. On the Friday I took in one or two of them after lunch, then decided to take a break and do part of the harborside walk instead of the late afternoon session.

A single day of convention activity was enough for me. There was more of the same the next day, with the dinner still to come in the evening. Professionally speaking, I knew I should be there, but I wasn't really interested. It's something about crowds. Not surprisingly, several colleagues I bumped into thought the same.

"The dinner will be too noisy - too big and too crowded," said Karen. "And you can never guarantee you'll get any food with such numbers."

"Why don't you come along to Dan and Susie's place with us?" Paula suggested. It's mainly Zen people, but I'm sure they'll tolerate a stray Nutritionist if you're nice to them."

She laughed as Karen found a pen and wrote out the details on a pamphlet, then moved off into the crowd.

And that's how I came to be there with all you Zen people, standing around at Dan and Susie's with a drink in my hand, wearing a low-neck, deep crimson dress slashed to the thigh and feeling a bit out of place.

Knowing only a few of you, I was wishing I'd done a Zen course too so I could join the conversation more easily.

To please Karen and Paula, I'd made an effort with my appearance and worn that dress. They're always telling me I have a good figure and I should get out of those pants and into a skirt more often to show off my legs, so I dug the daring thing from the back of my wardrobe and gave it a rare outing.

And heels! I never wear those things normally, even though I own several nice pairs. That evening, I was there at Dan's house all decked out in heels and a slinky dress, with chandelier earrings and my hair styled - the lot.

Thinking of the moment we met, I remember the pre-dinner drinks being similar to a party. We had to wait quite a while before dinner was served - maybe a couple of hours - and by the time we met we'd already had a drink or two, to put it mildly. I was unknown to many in the group and feeling socially ill at ease in a new place.

Being a Nutritionist concerned with food, I'd suddenly found myself a victim in a conversation where I defended a point of view against that woman, Marisa, who was insisting that health was all a state of mind. I should've kept my mouth shut and just remained an observer, but I'd had a drink or two and felt bolder than usual - a bit lightheaded and unguarded I suppose.

I got the impression you'd had a drink or three as you were feeling pretty happy by the time we were introduced. Maybe you're just very friendly. In spite of being from the States, you were on your own patch anyway, a newcomer, but comfortable with the Zen crowd.

When you heard me getting out of my depth with Marisa, you weighed in to defend me, taking me to one side and engaging me in the most entertaining conversation I'd had all evening.

I could see you watching my face light up as I laughed at your jokes and fell in easily with your style. It was magic. I could also see your eyes straying to my cleavage, an unfamiliar experience for me as my style of dress is usually the cover-up kind.

Knowing you were watching made me catch my breath, and I tried not to show that I found you so exciting, even though I was having fun.

Our conversation strayed to all kinds of intimate topics, and I was constantly surprised at how you seemed to know my mind and take an interest in its workings. And when we wandered into the garden I found myself drawn so deeply into your thoughts as we pretended to examine the lovely perfumed trees around the pool.

"You know what you are?" I asked you, in a teasing fashion. You looked at me with that amused look of yours, waiting for me to answer my own question.

"My knight in shining armor," I answered. "If you hadn't rescued me back there, we wouldn't be talking here now. You came along and swept me up onto your horse and rode with me into the sunset."

I remember you laughed at that.

"Anytime," you said, and you gave me a hug. I was in high spirits by then, so I returned the hug. Somehow it seemed natural to hug you like that and stand on my toes so I could press my cheek to yours.

"My damsel in distress," you replied in your suave, gallant manner, "You can leap onto my charger any day." And you laughed again.

Secretly, I thrilled to the rich tones in your voice, that smooth southern accent of yours.

We were getting on fine, but just as I hoped that perhaps we'd share a cozy evening together, the dinner bell rang and Susie's son, Ferdie fell into the pool as it began to rain hard outside - all those things at the same time.

Maybe the kid took fright and fell in when he heard the bell. I don't know. In any case, we were separated by the general commotion.

When Dan's daughter, Tommi, stumbled on my foot and spilt her drink down the front of my dress a minute later, the only thing I could do was go to the bathroom to make myself presentable again. It seemed like a strange twist of fate.

As we moved apart, we weren't aware we'd see nothing of each other for the rest of the evening. In the space of thirty seconds we'd moved from bliss to dismiss.

Next day I was laid up in bed. Maybe there was something wrong with the oysters. I don't know. But I felt terrible and it took a few days for me to feel right again.

When you phoned the next day just to say 'hello', I wasn't the same person, even though you tried hard to open up the level of intimacy we'd reached in conversation the night before. Somehow it frightened me and I couldn't open up freely. I was sure you'd give up on me then.

You phoned the following week to see how I was. You'd been unwell too. Was it the flu after getting caught in that rain on the way home? Anyway, you were OK by then. On the mend. You wanted us to meet.

Remembering my awkwardness on the phone, I suggested a nice quiet bike ride around the harbor foreshores and up the river, taking it slow. It would give us something to do. I said I could lend you a bike if you didn't have one, but you assured me it was fine. The friends you were staying with had bikes begging for a ride, and they could muster some clothing in your size.

We met in a car park near the river in the upper reaches of the harbor, with a noisy railway bridge soaring over our heads - a strange place to meet, I know, but at least it wasn't far from where you were staying.

As we located each other and climbed out of our cars with a shy wave, we both looked so different no longer dressed up in our party clothes. I wasn't wearing any make-up and had pretty much just stepped out of the shower and dried my blond hair to its natural straightness.

You could see me there in my bike riding gear, and I knew it showed off my figure. I could certainly admire yours, and your manly bulge was immediately obvious to my alert eye.

I remember we came together and hugged right at the time the ferry service, a river cat, swished by. The words you said close to my ear were lost in the noise of the engine. When the bow wave began slapping the shore we moved apart and stood together, shy but excited, watching the catamaran pass.

We got busy and put our bikes together, fitting the wheels and checking our gear. By then we were ready, so we locked the cars and set off, riding side by side. As we concentrated on the route and the state of the cycle path, avoiding other users, we made snatches of conversation for a while.

No pressure. There couldn't be, with all those interruptions. We laughed now and then as we nearly fell off when something happened, like a kid running across the path.

We'd gone quite a way and there was a nice patch of grass up ahead, overlooking the water. It was perfect for a rest. We stopped and opened our packs, taking our water bottles and some food to the grassy river bank so we could sit together, side by side and admire the view.

As we busied ourselves with our food, sharing the things we'd brought, I remember that feeling of becoming increasingly aware of our proximity and just how arousing it was being near each other again.

We started to talk, all the while looking at the water, not at each other, and somehow this position made us say things that surprised us, even then. Time was passing and we hardly noticed at all, and emotionally we were getting very close to where we'd been a week earlier - perhaps closer.

The conversation was becoming more intimate because we weren't eye-balling each other, just sitting there in a lovely nearness, sharing ideas. I thought the bike ride was a good idea although I knew you had doubts initially.

"This is like pillow talk, isn't it," I joked. I remember you looked a little surprised when I said that, so I explained what I meant.

"We're side by side and we feel free to say more, like two lovers in bed in the dark."

I gasped then. Two lovers, indeed! I remember feeling alarmed that I'd said too much, gone too far. But it was true. Sitting side by side we'd explored so many things that we couldn't express face to face, and I'd already got the feeling we wouldn't be riding any further up the river.

From there on, I can't remember the rest too clearly. It all got away from me from that point. I could feel the heat of being near you raging up inside me, so I lost all focus. One of us made a move, but who was it? I don't know.

Whatever happened, I ended up reaching for you, moving my body over to yours - on top of you almost. I think I even threw my leg over you.

As we kissed for the first time and I discovered just how special your kisses are, and there was no way I could back out and say I was shy. With your tongue in my mouth and mine in yours, we'd already invaded each other and declared a win for both sides in the first round.

I could tell how your body felt against mine because your hard cock was very obvious to me in your bike riding gear. It was protruding in a way that was speaking to me as no words ever could, telling me that you found me irresistible, that you wanted to connect with me at a much deeper level, and right now.

Of course I 'innocently' pressed my pussy to your hard bulge, moving my body against it and trying arouse myself even further in an almost brazen manner for someone like me who'd only known you for a short time.

The situation was becoming so hot and the passion between us developing with such speed that we needed somewhere more private, then and there. In that area along the river there are places hidden by quite dense shrubbery, and that day we were in luck with our picnic spot quite close to one of them. We didn't have to move far to find a tiny grassy clearing surrounded by thick bushes.

And that's where we lowered our pants and you took your cock out for me in all its naked glory, pushing my legs apart and thrusting your length into my pussy, wet and swollen and waiting for my knight to sink his sword into my body, hard and hot, right up to the hilt.

*

An Email Letter to Her

By SxRx

*

'Pillow talk' is exactly how I'd describe our special time together. It's the midnight hour when the woman lets her hair down, opens like a rare moon flower, and allows her man to step inside her secret garden and capture her when she says and does naughty, naughty things that are meant only for him in that special time.

Later, when her hair is up for the day, her flower closed and the garden faded, she is not attuned to the man wanting to boldly remind her of her secret abandon when she was able to expose herself and share her vulnerability.

The midnight hour stays within the privacies of a wall and must be respected as she must be. I can be such a bloody bull in china shop, however, I am learning precious things I will savor and respect about women.

You say you are shy. It seems you are like that in the light of day. It's a different mood and time for sweetness of a kind, but not the same. Light kisses, whispers of 'you were wonderful' and other subtle words - almost an invisibility - are what is called for rather than some blow by blow, 'hubba-hubba baby you were so nasty' kind of thing.

I see this more clearly now, that just because we had some delicious pillow talk at a party when I was able to capture a piece of the secret garden doesn't mean you will always be in the mood for more of the same when I catch you on the phone or at other times.

The fantasies a woman may use to work herself into a special mood are so personal and intimate they can hardly be put into words. I will not be asking you to tell me about when you did this and such, what were you thinking, what you did.

No, this is again something for the woman to decide if the mood strikes her, not to be demanded.

Yes, the party we met at that evening; how could it ever be forgotten? You did have a few drinks, I could tell, but you were delightfully alive and just a little buzzed. You had alcohol bravery, but your comments were well placed and well spoken I thought.

You came across as delightful and refreshing and I found myself liking this stranger with the beautiful blond hair and blue eyes. Despite your formal demeanor, I caught sight of a sparkle in your eye that seemed to call to me, 'come hither'.

And so I did and weighed in, as you say, in an almost unconscious manner, coming a bit to your defense of your 'oh so correct' points of the moment.

I did enjoy it when we were pulled aside. Was it me or you? I seem to forget, as I was captivated by your Aussie way, your delicious smile and the hint of something as during our conversation you eased your way into my space until you were very close.

When you thanked me for my support and defense of your points so evident, you called me 'my knight in shining armor to the rescue' in a lighthearted way, but I was touched as any man would be to hear those words from such a fair maiden, and couldn't resist a hug.

When you returned the hug fully, not one of these cautious side hugs, I was warmed by your affection. No, you embraced me so completely I felt light-headed in your arms.

At parties, I am always careful to limit my intake of alcohol so that I can maintain a bit of control. However, after we embraced, I smelled your womanly fragrance, felt the swells of your breasts and it seemed I'd had more than enough to drink at that point. Something stirred between us, like koi swirling at the surface of a pond to mark the moment.

The host's daughter spilled drinks on you, and you excused yourself to the powder room, returned a bit ruffled that your best dress was stained.

We missed the dinner bell as I waited for you and entered the dining room late as all eyes gaze upon us. I remember stepping with pride with you at my side, lifting my head up, smiling knowingly for all to see!

All the places were taken but distant ones, and so we finished out the evening eating apart instead of what we had craved, to sit close to each other, to trust more to our sixth sense about each other than to the words we heard, though they would have been heard. No more cozy evening for us, at least for the present time.

I looked up following dinner drinks and dessert and found that you'd disappeared, caught up in something I didn't quite understand, but I let the matter go for the moment.

I couldn't wait to phone you and hear your sexy, sultry Aussie voice, but it wasn't until the next week that I had the pleasure of speaking with you due to illnesses and family matters that must always come first.

I was looking forward to taking an evening stroll in some quiet and intimate place where I could have the chance to see you up close again, look into your blue eyes, to smell your womanly fragrance - all that I have come to know as the sensual you.

But you had other thoughts, meeting at a parking lot of all places. How unromantic I thought, but we were getting together and so I brushed the disappointment from my mind.

You wanted to ride bikes of all things, where I'd have little chance at getting to be with you at close quarters, but I was thinking manly thoughts, thinking with that which swings between my legs.

I carried on and found myself enjoying the ride and the wonderful view. I liked this sporting look of yours in your snug biking gear, and I found myself admiring your charms. I was sure you noticed me when I didn't make eye contact but talked to your bust line instead!

I was a little self-conscious in my bike gear, borrowed for the occasion and just a bit tight. It looked like I'd stuffed a pair of socks in my crotch, but you seemed pleased with the effect and so all else soon left my thoughts!

At your insistence, we lost time finding a helmet that would fit my size 8 head. Finally, the store manager came out with this outrageous helmet, flames flaring everywhere, but it was the only helmet that fitted my big head and so we took it.

You teased me provocatively and wondered aloud what else was over sized about me as you grinned and glanced at my crotch.

"Wouldn't you love to find out," I told you.

To my surprise, you angled over, and in what appeared to be an innocent 'here we go' hug, gave yourself a chance to press your body to mine. You smiled, obviously pleased with what you discovered.

Is this the same woman I have been hearing from, I wondered? But, off you went and I had to pedal hard to catch up to you, so natural on a bike. You were doing some serious biking now and my mind wandered to enjoying the activity.

I was finding pleasure at the sight of you in your gear as we wheeled through various scenes with the water always as a backdrop.

Finally, you suggested we stop for a food and water break. My calves were killing me! I walk and hike - biking, not so much. When I mentioned this to you, you pulled a small bottle of lotion from your biking kit and so naturally patted the ground for me come sit by you.

I heeled at once. Down I went! You rubbed your hands with the lotion and began to massage my calves as you pushed my stockinged feet at the toes to relieve any charlie horses that may be roaming free.

As you finished, you smiled at me and winked. Yes, much better, I told you, and then jokingly said that I had other things that could use a good massage.

Your smile grew into a sexy laugh and I laughed with you. A moment now developed and grew. Then we were kissing as we sat side by side.

My full body kiss now captured you and a passionate energy swept through us. Suddenly, your kissing became more aggressive and lustful and you were on top of me. Since our gear was so snug, we could feel everything as if we were naked, escalating our frenzy even higher.

You pressed yourself to my body and moved your breasts against me in your tight knit gear and I could feel your nipples harden. Then I felt you press and grind your pussy into my crotch; the pussy I'd admired since we began our bike ride.