Taking chances

Water rivulets streamed down the skin of the woman’s body on a hot July summer afternoon.

She felt the raw texture rubbing on her skin and released one strap and slowly peeled it from her body.

The top of her breast was exposed and reacted by puckering, and a fine line of goose bumps ensued.

The sensation was overwhelming: shock mingled with a heightened awareness of senses.

The acuteness of being at one with her body absorbed her.

She felt a tingling of fear at continuing such a stimulating undertaking, but she really had no choice.

Removing the final layer would command courage, and she could attain the liberation she had been longing for.

Was it better to remain as she was or to lunge for the reward she could experience that could take her body to the point of release that she craved?

Tingling would begin; a sharp pain would follow, but ultimately, freedom would bring with it a moment of indescribable pleasure mixed with pain.

The consuming thought then was the decision between slow and easy or fast and forceful.

To draw it out would be excruciating, but a total bombardment could overload the senses.

The fear remained that the feelings would only intensify to an unbearable point if she continued to wait.

But, what else was there to do other than take the damn cold, wet swimsuit off and suffer through the freezing, stinging pain of cold, clammy skin under the air conditioner?



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