Home > adventure, intimacy, romance > 3. Beryl O’Flies – Confidential Investigator

3. Beryl O’Flies – Confidential Investigator

We both fell asleep after more than an hour of lovemaking. I wakened first and stretched out beside Beryl O’Flies. I rested on one elbow and watched her sleep. She seemed completely sated, and I hoped she was. She was a… she is a wonderful lover. In her forties, as I expected, she was very experienced and not at all inhibited. She’s about ten years older than I am, but in such good, toned condition her body is as enjoyable as a twenty year old. More enjoyable… there’s no substitute for experience. We did everything that can be covered by the word ‘lovemaking’. No position or orifice was ignored.

I can’t usually feel passion and desire for a woman I’d just met, but Beryl is different. Initially, her physical attributes attracted my attention, but her bold, flippant behaviour won my affection. She’s smart, nervy and wealthy, like a woman I might dream of. I wondered if she was creative in some way, and if she could cook. I had no domestication intentions and surprised myself by wondering if she could cook.

I was able to look at her openly while she slept. Her face was tanned with the trace of freckles. She has a spectacular nose. It’s small and straight above her full lips, and she has small, fine ears. I peeled back the blanket to look at her firm breasts and flat stomach. Her hair was that rich dark red one sees often in people of Irish heritage. I had proof that it was her natural hair colour when I had close facial contact with her sweet, fragrant pubic area.

When I looked at her pubic hair, curls of red and gold, I yielded to the desire to taste her again. I hoped she wouldn’t be upset by being awakened like this as I manoeuvred my shoulders between her legs and slid up to the nectar source. In the end, she was not annoyed at my method of waking her. We showered together, lathering each other, our hands lingering in areas of particular interest.

We decided to go out for breakfast and Beryl chose the Royal Lincoln Hotel. I swallowed hard, certain that I could not afford breakfast for two at the Royal Lincoln. I didn’t mention the problem, and I needn’t have because a second later she continued.

“I have an account there, so there’s no problem,” she said. I wondered if she could read my mind.

Her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen, said ‘excuse me’ and took the call.

“Go ahead,” she said. She listened for a moment before she hung up. “We have a gig,” she smiled.

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