When my fiancé suggested I take a writing class for women, I initially opposed it. I had only finished college a few years but I still used the excuse that graduating had burned me out to write more myself.
The course took place on a beach in Mallorca. Not exactly my normal style, but for some reason it caught me enough to say yes.
I had also been in some sort of deadlock relationally for a while, unable to feel passion, which had affected me emotionally and sexually affected my relationship. Olaf, my fiancé, thought that if I took a break to be with other women I would feel better and get back to my creativity.
I agreed because even if that didn't happen, at least I would come back with a little tan.
The course only lasted four days, but by the end of the first day I had already made a friend. I noticed Sabrina at our first group meeting. We were fifteen people, all between 24 and 37 years old. Everyone was excited, helpful and friendly, but something about Sabrina's slight, crooked smile and her wild, blonde locks had fascinated me.
After snagging a seat side by side, we found that conversation flowed easily between us and we had a similar, dry sense of humor.
For the first time in ages there was another spark inside me. It felt so good to laugh, create, and be surrounded by feminine energy. I wrote more poetry than I had in years, huddled next to Sabrina while I inhaled her jasmine and patchouli perfume.
The same flame blazed in our eyes. I saw her every time my blue eyes met her own beautiful hazel ones. As I sat next to her on our last evening and our bare arms touched almost imperceptibly, I realized that I didn't want to leave.
It wasn't the beach or the writing or the vacation ... I didn't want to leave Sabrina. I told her and my voice was as low as a whisper, because I was afraid that if I spoke too loudly, what we had would break. It felt like a secret, too precious a treasure to be known.
I watched Sabrina's full pink lips part as she studied my face. I panicked for a moment, wondering if maybe I had too strong a bond in my head with what she was feeling. But just as I was about to say something, she whispered an answer to me. "I do not want that either."
For a moment our words hung heavily in the damp air, neither of us daring to move a muscle. Then, so quickly a heart could hardly skip a beat, Sabrina's soft mouth lay over mine.
Without allowing a second thought, I kissed her back and lost my hands in her soft, wild, sensual locks. Her kisses and touch were desperate - fitting mine - but still gentle and caring. In a haze of sliding hands and tongues and giggles, we took off each other's clothes.
Desire blossomed in me in a way she had never done before as I admired her soft skin, generous curves and feminine strength. I didn't feel a hint of doubt or shame. On the contrary, I felt powerful as the pleasure moved our bodies and saw the color bloom in her cheeks and heard the moans she uttered.
When she laid me down and started kissing me all over the place, I finally knew what it felt like to experience true ecstasy. Her tongue had felt smooth and tasted sweet. I gasped and buried my hands in her hair the entire time. Never too hard, never too rough, she worked me with perfect pressure. She knew my body because she knew how I felt.
She heard me react and changed the angle and pace to get exactly what I needed. Soon a tingling sensation grew inside me and an uncontrollable whimper began to break out from my lips.
Sabrina put two delicate, short fingers in my mouth and tried not to calm me down, just to be closer to me. The release rolled through me and my back arched over the hotel carpeted floor. I sucked on Sabrina's fingers and showed her my gratitude. She looked so beautiful, like an angel with a halo of golden curls.
I closed my eyes and when I opened them again I was home in my bed again. I blinked several times in the dark, confused. Olaf was there snoring softly next to me and the familiar scent of our room replaced the memory of Sabrina's perfume. A dream ... it was a dream. I took a deep breath and when I processed this fact, a big grin appeared on my face. Who cares if it was a dream? I got my passion back.
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