Surf and Laura

Surf and Laura

I quit Marianne about eleven thirty a.m. and went home. The house was empty. It was Helen's weekend with her daughter. I was a little tired. I took a quick shower, wore a clean workout suit and felt on the bed.

I woke up about 13:30, starving. Still horny. I went to the kitchen, made a chicken sandwich with lettuce and mayonnaise. I took a bottle of orange juice out of the fridge. I sat at the kitchen table, ate the sandwich and drank the juice through the bottle.

I went to the office and, for half an hour, I tried to concentrate and work a little. But I was restless.

I went back to the kitchen and prepared an expresso. I drank it with pleasure and went back to the office. But now I was even more restless, probably because of the caffeine. And the erection wouldn't go away.

I caught my surfing suit, went to the garage, put my favorite board inside the SUV and drove right to a beach where surfers usually meet all year round.

Up there, I changed to the surfing suit, I ran to the beach and made some warming movements. I knew some of the surfers who were going and coming and I spotted my usual group. I went into the water and swam to them. The cold water felt good.

There were four boys there, two of whom were known pros, and two girls. One was the (inseparable) girlfriend of one of the pros, and the other was a known figure of professional female surfing. She looked at me from top to bottom, with no disguised curiosity. We talked a little sitting on the boards.

The surge was small, less than 4 feet, but it seemed to be growing and there were already larger sets.

The group quickly dissolved and we went for the better wave. At the end of two or three less happy attempts, I caught a good wave that led me almost to the beach. Before swimming back, I noticed that the pro girl was very near and that she had surfed the same wave as me, without me noticing it.

"Good choice," she shouted.

I showed her my thumb up.

One hour and three good waves later, tired and wrinkled by the prolonged immersion, I decided it was enough.

I got out of the water, I took the board and was preparing to run to the car when, suddenly, in front of me was the surfer girl.

"Laura", she said.

"Michael. Nice to meet you."

"Do you want to come clean the salt and have a hot drink?" - she invited. "My house is very close, right behind this dune."

"With great pleasure. Thanks for the invitation," I replied.

We both ran, she ahead and I following. In less than five minutes we were entering a little courtyard. Leaning to the wall were two more boards.

"Do you have any visitors?" I asked.

"No, they're all my boards," she explained.

We put our boards on the side wall, I took the hose that was on the ground and she went to open the water to wash them.

I said to the dog, "Stay!"

Then she led me to a spacious compartment with a large shower on the wall.

Laura turned the hot and cold water faucets until the water got warm. She went under the shower and, turning her back, asked me to open the zipper of her surf suit. Then she turned to me, made a sign for me to turn around and did the same on my suit.

Without any hesitation she got out of her suit, and I did the same. We were both naked.

My penis, which withered with the sea bath, grew rapidly.

Not much of a surprise. Laura had beautiful blue eyes and a lovely smile. She was not very tall - it would be a little more than 5.5 feet - but had a magnificent athletic body.

I blushed and she laughed, looking with no shame.

"I am also a physical therapist. Usually I would wait until we got to the massage table, but this seems like an emergency," she said, pointing to my phallus.

I looked at it, too, and I was a bit frightened. The glans was uncovered and purple.

Laura squatted in front of me and started sucking on the tip of my glans, stroking at the same time with her right hand the body of the penis. Normally I would not allow manual caress, but right now I just wanted to relieve.

Despite her competence, it took several minutes until I got to ejaculate, and she drove it to her own chest, spreading my sperm and massaging with her left hand.

She got up and put her chest directly under the shower, washing all the sperm. Then she pulled me further under the shower and carefully washed my penis.

She closed the water and said, "Shall we? Where do you have your clothes?"

"In the car."

"And where's your car?"

"In the parking lot by the beach."

Laura gave me a bath towel, took another one for her and we dried up. Then she led me to a small room with a massage table at the center.

"Give me your car key and wait here."

She left and closed the door. The environment began to get warm and I realized she had turned on the air conditioning. I laid on the massage table all naked and relaxed a little. I think I may have slept.

Ten minutes later Laura was back. She walked into the massage room and showed me my surfing suit bag with my training suit inside. I went to get up to dress, but she told me to lie down.

"It's hot here," she said, stripping the white hoodie she was wearing.

Laura put the bag and her jacket on a chair and told me to turn my belly down. My vision was now limited but I realized she was undressing all her clothes. I heard a closet opening and closing behind me, and soon after I felt Laura's oily hands on my shoulders, massaging.

HUMMM, I moaned.

For a long time she massaged the whole back of my body from the neck to the feet. I was in ecstasy.

Then she told me to turn up, and I did it. She sure saw my erection - just as I saw she was naked - and she said in low voice: "I don't know what happened to you, but I like it."

She continued the massage, now starting with my feet. Laura went up the massage to the muscles of the thighs, passed to the outside of the hips, to the abdomen, and climbed up to the pectoralis, which she massaged only slightly.

She put again oil in her hands and began to massage my phallus. The feeling was pleasant but now slightly painful. A moment after she said: "May I?" and, without waiting for answer, she climbed to the massage table and straddled me.

I held her and said, "No condom, no. And I didn't bring condoms.

I didn't think they'd be needed," I added in a low voice.

"Yes, of course. Wait a minute," replied Laura, jumping from the table with an elastic movement.

She opened a small closet, searched inside, took a box of condoms. She came back to me and showed me a box of condoms where it was written in big letters: XXL

"I never thought I'd ever use these, but they're still within the expiry date," she said with a naughty smile.

Without further delay, she took one, opened it and skilfully put it on my erect phallus. She climbed back to the table and crawled over my penis.

In this position she long massaged my pecs and my shoulders. After, she raised her hip, positioned the tip of my penis at the entrance of her vagina, and began to penetrate herself with some difficulty.

Her vaginal canal was unexpectedly tight for a woman in her late 20s. We both groaned of pleasure and pain. But we were both very horny, too.

Laura put her hands on my chest and started moving up and down, simultaneously moving the hip forward and back.

The intensity of the pleasure of both would be difficult to describe. And Laura quickly reached an orgasm, intense but calm, continuing to move the hip forward and backward for a while.

"Sorry. I came very quickly," she said with disappointment, dismounting and standing.

"I wish it had last longer," she added.

I also got up, kissed her, and said, "You were amazing. Now it's my turn."

I pulled her up and sat her at the end of the massage table.

We kissed long.

I took Laura's legs and pulled them up until they were vertical and, consequently, her torso laying on the table. I put her ankles on my shoulders and started gently to massage her legs. "Hum, that feels good," she said.

I continued the massage for a few minutes, passing from the legs to the thighs. Then I put the tip of my rod in her body entrance, and passed my hands to the belly.

Without stopping the massage, very slowly I penetrated her. "Hummm, that feels VERY good!"

Very slowly, I slipped my hands up to her chest, massaging her completely hard nipples. Laura shuddered with pleasure and her skin got goose bumps. (I had read once, I don't know where, that the very horny women's body was like a big penis. Apparently it was true.)

As my hands came up higher, her legs were getting more on her chest, and the pressure of the penetration increased. The position was getting uncomfortable.

I got my hands back to her belly. Always massaging, I began to make short and strong pelvic movements, reducing to a minimum the friction (that made my penis hurt).

I stopped my hands at the bottom of her belly, just above the 'mons pubis', and pressed, without stopping the fast and short penetration movements. Suddenly, Laura's body stiffened, the walls of her vagina contracted strongly and she shouted, OH!

"I'm... a... coming... again?" - added with a surprised look.

*Is this what they call the big O?*, I thought.

She had three more big spasms, and she stood very quiet. I slowly removed my penis from inside her and sat on a chair. I was completely exhausted.

She got up from the massage table, came near me, leaned forward and kissed me. Then she whispered me: "Coffee or hot chocolate?"

"Chocolate, please."

"The kitchen is to the left, at the end of the hall," she said as she caught her clothes and dressed quickly.

I took my comfortable training suit out of the bag and I slowly dressed. I felt my muscles as I moved, which meant that the next day I would have muscle pains.

I took the bag and went to the kitchen. Laura had just prepared two large cups of hot chocolate. We sit at a small table and drank in small sips.

"You have to practice more. I mean, surfing," she said and laughed.

"You're right," I answered with a half smile.

After a while she spoke again.

"I will be out for two months in surf tournaments. But I'd really like to surf with you again when I get back."

I replied: "You might be disappointed. I'm not a very good surfer, and I'm getting old. I usually only have stamina for one wave," I told her laughing.

"I'm usually satisfied with only a wave if it's a good wave." she replied with a malicious smile.

I took my phone out of my pocket and gave it to her. She typed her number and called herself to confirm. Her phone rang.

She got up, took my bag, and went out to pick up my surf suit.

I got up and headed to the exit door. She followed me, put her hand in her hoodie's pocket, took the key of my car out and gave it to me. Then she hung on my neck and kissed me.

"Thank you. I was really in need," she whispered.

"Thank you. I was also really in need," I whispered back, blinking an eye. "Good luck for the tournaments."

I went out quickly and ran to the car, with the dog running beside me.

Half an hour later I was home. I took the dog to the back yard and gave it food and water. I went back inside and went to the bathroom. The erection was back.

*I have to do something. Urgently*, I thought.

I took a weak anxiolytic pill out of the medicine cabinet and swallowed it with a glass of water. I went to the living room and reclined on the couch.

After another half an hour, not only my body began to relax, as my brain began to work with the usual serenity. And the solution of the problem appeared.

*Pheromones! Marianne surely had a perfume with pheromones! It's the only possible explanation.*

"Oh! The little brat!" I said loudly.

The phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Marianne.

"Sorry. I didn't understand if I should go to your house next Saturday. I don't have your address."

I was completely calm now. I texted back:

"Yes. I'll text you my address next Friday night."

"Ah, Marianne, I added a condition to the agreement. It is not allowed to use perfumes with pheromones, or any other substance, or any trick, which causes alteration of the... disposition of the other person."

For two long minutes I did not receive an answer. I was about to put the phone away when a text came from her.

"Sorry. I can explain. I mean, I think I can explain."

"Of course you can. Please don't call me or text me until next Friday."

"Oh! Don't be mad at me, please."

"I won't. If you do as you're asked. Good night, Marianne", I wrote, and turned the phone off.