I Receive The Ultimate Gift

I receive the highest honor known to man

After a long, romantic walk on the beach, we return to our blanket and I build a fire with the wood we had earlier collected. The night sky is crystal clear and it seems we can see every star. The gentle breeze from the ocean occasionally wafts over us and makes your long hair wave a 'thank you' to this unseen entity.

I reach behind us and grab the large thermos of coffee. You watch in amazement as I pour the perfect amount of creamer into your cup and pour in the coffee. "How did you know I liked creamer in my coffee?" you ask me as I hand you your cup.

"Oh, I guess you must have mentioned it sometime," is my casual reply.

"When?" you ask with a giggle.

"Back when we first met. You said something about it on chat one time," I explained as I nudged the wood to produce more flame. I ask if you'd like some crackers and dip while we wait for the pasta to heat.

"I already have the dip, don't I?" is your answer as you look at me. Then grin on your face not only tells me you're joking around, but makes me appreciate you even more.

"Yes, my dear, you have me," I confirm as I lean toward you and we kiss. I wink at you as I go back to tending the fire. You watch me as I set up a post and arm assembly, then pour the pasta into the pan and hang it on the hook, swinging it over the fire to heat. You recall I had mentioned I loved to cook, but you didn't ever dream I could cook as good as I can. You smile as you recall how delicious the chicken dinner I had made for you a few months ago was.

"This sauce is something a unique kick to it. I added a touch of lemon zest and horseradish to it," I say as I look at you from my project at the fire. Seeing your reaction, I add, "It sounds gross, I know, but wait until you taste it!!"

Soon I'm serving you a plate of pasta with a slice of garlic toast I had prepared earlier then wrapped in aluminum foil. It was now re-warmed, soft, and sending a wonderful fragrance into the night air.

"So, you want my breath to stink, do you?" you giggle as you take the plate and see the garlic toast.

I laugh. "Need yours to stink enough to cover up mine," I replied as I hold up my piece of garlic toast before I plate my pasta and move back to my favorite place, which is beside you. I wait for your reaction as you take the first bite of pasta.

"This is really good!" you say with your surprise obvious in your voice tone. "I admit that I had doubts but you're right, it's really good!"

"I'm glad you like it," you hear me say before I turn around and take something else from the ice chest I had brought with us. You wonder what else I could possibly be getting. Before you have time to ask, I produce a bottle of your favorite red wine I had earlier opened to allow it to breathe. "For the lady who turned me from the sour grape I was, into the wine I am now," I say with a smile as I pop the cork and pour some for you and hand you a chilled goblet.

"Thank you, Sir," you say with a smile as you nod your head in appreciation and take the goblet. "Just don't ferment too far or you'll get bitter!"

Looking into your dark and alluring eyes, I see the flickering flames from the fire reflecting in them. I grin and ask, "How could I ever get bitter around you?"

After casually consuming our dinners while we talked and shared some more thoughts with each other, the table service we used I quickly stashed into a bag. "Now I can give you my full attention," I say softly while reaching up to touch your face. I'm surprised when you grab my hand and kiss it.

"That was truly delightful. That you," you whisper, pressing my hand against your breasts. Several minutes later I had positioned myself into a semi-reclining posture using the ice chest as my back support. Parting my legs, I motion for you to sit between them and use me for your back support. You move over and lean back against me. I gently massage your temples, chin, neck, and shoulders.

"You're awfully tense," I comment as I massage your neck and shoulders. "What's wrong?"

For several minutes you remain silent as you repeatedly push your toes into the sand then lift them up to allow the sand to fall between them as I continue massaging you. "This wasn't supposed to happen," you finally say. "I wasn't going to allow it, and I'm frightened."

"Not allow what?" I query you as my hands slide gently over the smooth, soft skin on your face and down your neck. The sensation you get is not only pleasure, but has an element of arousal mixed in.

You slide down a bit and turn on your side so you can rest your head on my chest. You realize how safe and happy you feel in my grasp. "I wasn't going to allow myself to get this comfortable around you - or anyone for that matter."

I was puzzled by that. Trying to figure out some way to reply, I came up empty. As I stroked your temple, through my fingertips you can sense my strong feelings for you. You also felt the strong evidence of the physical side of my attraction to you as my manhood throbed against your ribs.

"Well, I'm sorry I made you comfortable, if that's the case," I responded with, your head and torso gently bounced in unison with my chuckling. "But I'm nothing special, I'm just who I am and what I am."

You turn your head toward my face and our eyes meet. Waves of happiness roar through me and I smile at you. An odd feeling washes over you as you look into my soul. You see things in my eyes that you haven't encountered before, or at least not to such a strong degree.

"I'm not sorry a bit," I barely hear you say as you return your head to resting on my chest. The next several hours raced by in what seemingly was an instant. We had spent them just talking and exploring the starlit sky. It seemed the more we talked, the more we found we have in common .

You ask if I'd like to go for another walk and I confirm I would. This time though, our walk along the moonlit beach was different. This time, you had reached out your hand to me and I gently but eagerly grasp hold of it with mine. After a while I let go of your hand and repositioned my hand on your waist. You similarly, put your hand on my waist and we continued our walk. Eventually we turn around and head back toward the secluded beach front cabin I had rented for the summer. I had invited you to come spend the day, and after some extra coaxing, you agreed and now you were glad you had.

Walking along, I steadily slid my hand further down over your hip. "I know what you want, Art, and if you really need to touch my butt, you can," I heard you giggle in a voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. I quickly took you up on your offer and rubbed my hand lightly over the firm, seductive contour of your ass. Visions of your body raced through my head as we walked along while blood raced to 'that' muscle on my body.

We arrived at the cabin and noticed the fire was nothing but warm embers. "You want me to build it up, or you want to go inside?" I asked as I squatted down by the dark circle, easily visible on the white sand that was reflecting the abundant moonlight. "Let's just go inside. I'll need to be leaving soon anyhow," you said.

The illusion I had allowed myself to so immensely enjoy shattered within my head as I realized you were going to be leaving. Our time together seemed to pass so quickly. It all seemed so natural, you and I being together. It seemed as if we had known each other for many years

Inside the cabin we nibbled on crackers and cheese while sipping more wine as we continued our seemingly endless conversation. I don't recall ever having talked so much in my life during the course of a day as I had with you, but it had been wonderful. Now, as I sit facing you, I frequently scan over your shapely legs, graciously exposed to my appreciative view by your shorts, your slender waist and

the gentle curves of your breasts.

I enjoy looking into your eyes as we talk. They are so soft and warm, so tender and loving, I could easily get lost in their marvels and your face has been a treat for my eyes. I've found it difficult to not stare at you.

"No thank you. I really need to get going," you said as I went to refresh your goblet of wine. You stood up and staggered ever sp slightly.

"You okay to drive?" I questioned you, not wanting you to risk injuring yourself. As you stood there for a moment, you rubbed your forehead and looked at me, standing a few feet from you. "I can't stay, you'd have no place to sleep if I did," were your words as you stepped toward me.

As we joined in an embrace I whispered into your ear, "I've got the sofa, the floor, and the entire beach to use. Why don't you go to the bedroom and lay down? I'll not intrude."

We stayed locked in our embrace for a moment, which was fine by me before you said, "well, if you're sure you don't mind, maybe I should for an hour or so."

Almost as an after-thought, you asked, "Would you mind if I took a quick shower? Maybe that would help."

"I wouldn't mind a bit. I'd think you'd have known that by now," I answer with a grin. Shortly thereafter, I lead you up the few steps to the master bedroom and showed you to the hidden bathroom off the master bedroom. I set out towels and a washcloth for you and as I turn to ask if you need anything else, you're not there.

I walk to the bedroom and see you sitting on the bed looking out the window. "This view is absolutely beautiful!" you exclaim when you hear me approach.

Having stopped at the doorway, I was standing there looking at you. "Yes, this view certainly is wonderful," I answered. "It's a pretty nice view out the window also," I added in an attempt at humor.

Turning to look at me, you quickly understand my comment and a smile appeared on your face. "You are so bad!!" you giggle as you rise and walk toward me. After we exchange several quick kisses, I step aside so you can enter the bathroom and excuse myself. Exiting the bedroom I close the door behind me and pause, standing motionless for a moment as I picture you undressing in my mind.

Your long hair, your sleek and slender body, the enthralling taper and curves of your legs all combine to produce an image of heaven by my definition. When I hear the water running, I turn and walk back to the great room downstairs, taking a seat on the sofa.

"You okay if I take a few more minutes?" you soon call to me. I turn and look up at you standing on the balcony off the master bedroom. You have a light tan colored towel wrapped snuggly around you and the color of the towel exemplifies the wonderful shade of your skin.

I stand up to be able to face you more directly. "Take as long as you need," is my reply. Another of the many uncontrollable smiles I've had appears on my face. I see you smile back as you turn and vanish from my sight.

Not even ten minutes had passed when I hear you softly walking down the steps, but I had drank two full goblets of wine in that time. I again stand to greet you and almost fall over. Not from the wine; no, not at all. It was from the sweet vision I see before me as I stare in disbelief. You're still wearing the towel and again, I smile as even more enticing visions about you flicker through my mind.

"I'm sorry I took so long, but I had to brush my hair or it would be a disaster," you explain as you notice me smiling while I look at you. "I didn't want to put my dirty clothes back on until just before I leave," you needlessly explain once you realize you were still wrapped in the towel.

"If they're machine wash and dry, I'd be more than happy to wash them out for you," I offer.

You wrap your hands around my neck and rise to your tip-toes to kiss me. "That's sweet of you to offer, but certainly not necessary."

I wanted so much to put my arms around you and give you a long hug, but I also knew that I couldn't trust myself to touch you. The impulse to tug the towel off you would be far too much temptation for even a man such as myself to resist.

"Seriously, get everything you want washed and we'll run 'em through," I reiterate to you.

"You're absolutely sure you wouldn't mind?" you ask. I nod my head affirmatively, still making certain not to touch you and tempt myself beyond my ability to maintain my self-control. You smile and go hurriedly upstairs, returning almost instantly with your clothes. I've not moved from where you left me, and you hand me your clothes. Taking them into my arms, I quickly go and start the washer, placing your clothes in it. I return to the great room and you have seated yourself facing the west wall which was all glass and overlooked the water.

"Cold water wash, right?" I ask you as I sit down beside you. You place your hand on my leg and confirm my decision was correct. The touch of your hand on my leg sent another series of desire capped waves through me. I can't help myself from looking at your legs. They look so smooth and soft, and I enjoy the fact that the towel was so high up your thighs. 'Gonna need to have that towel bronzed!' I think to myself as I fantasize of feeling those legs around me..

Later, I went and put your clothes in the dryer and when it was done, I went to get your clothes so I could return them to you. I wasn't wanting to return them to you because that simple action would probably mean our evening together would be ending. You took them and placed them on the table in front of the sofa as I sat down next to you. My eyes were still fixated on your long, shapely legs. I so desperately wanted to touch them, run my hands up and down the subtle curves and allow my lips to follow behind my hands, placing a series of kisses from your ankles to your thighs, and ideally, even higher.

We leaned back and I slipped my arm around you. You turned a bit more toward me and placed your hand on my stomach. 'Lower! PLEASE, LOWER!!' I screamed out within my head. I couldn't even imagine what your touch to my stimulated flesh would feel like.

"I'm not sure, but I maybe shouldn't have had those last few glasses of wine," you said as you rubbed your cheek lightly against my bare chest.

"You're more than welcomed to stay the night," I remind you. "I'll force myself to resist you."

Immediately upon vocalizing that last phrase, I wished I hadn't said it.

"Force yourself to resist me?" you confronted me with as you lifted your head and stared directly at me. I couldn't determine what your thoughts were. Was it anger, pleasure, surprise or disgust you felt?

"Why would you need to do that?" came your additional question. It burned as those words entered my ears and embedded themselves in my brain. Silently I pondered over just exactly what you meant by that. Did you mean you doubted I really had such passionate desires for you or did you mean I'd not need to resist and could fully express my affection?

Before I could get it rationalized out in my head and produce an appropriate answer, I felt your hand on my jeans, directly over top the thick shaft of swollen flesh hiding under the material. Maybe it was the wine, or the mental closeness I felt with you, or the physical desire to enjoy your body, but something made me start spilling out a confession like I was a chicken-shit mobster being interrogated by the cops. "I've dreamed of you so often. Of being with you, enjoying the feel of your body, making love to you, us living together," I began. "Do you have any idea the burden it's been on me, trying to prevent you from discovering my true feelings for you?"

You were looking at me so intently that your gaze was having the effect of truth serum.

"I've been afraid to tell you for fear you'd be offended. I couldn't risk loosing your friendship by telling you my dreams and desires. You have almost all that I've wanted in a mate, but I know it wouldn't work out and it would be unfair to you to be with a man who is so much older than you."

My mouth spewed forth everything so quickly I couldn't seem to stop it or even slow it down. "I could easily fall so much in love with you. You're smart, funny, we have many things in common, and you're so beautiful and sexy that I've had countless dreams of making love to you. So many that I am almost ashamed of myself."

Finally, I got my mouth into a mental death grip and stopped it before it continued. You were totally silent and I could feel you looking at me as I fidgeted in my seat. I couldn't look at you. Not because I was ashamed of what I had just said, but out of shame that I had not been more open and direct with you before and now had dumped it all in your lap in one horrific minute. Your silence was scaring me to death as I waited for your reaction. Honestly, I thought you'd leave and tell me to forget I ever knew you.

Instead, you began to discuss it with me in a rational, calm manner. We talked for quite a while and continued to work at eliminating the wine I had stocked up on, which I was fine with. Almost three hours later, you asked if you could still stay over. You thought we should talk about it more, but only after we both had gotten a few hours sleep.

I agreed and you soon went upstairs. I changed into my sweatpants then sat on the sofa, sipping more wine and wishing I could join you. After about half an hour I laid down. I had forced myself to accept the fact that I would tonight, as with all other nights before, be going to sleep without you in my arms - only in my dreams.

Apparently I had fallen asleep quickly for it was very dark outside when I heard you whispering my name as you jostled me from my slumber. "Art? Art! Wake up," I heard you through my sleep. " Why don't you come up to bed?"

I forced open my resisting eyes to see if I was dreaming. You were bent over me, your long hair caressing my exposed chest. There was one part of me that had more quickly awakened; which was a fact I was oblivious to until I stood up and felt it's familiar straining as it pushed against the fleece of my sweats Instantly I knew that you couldn't have helped but seen the tent pole I surely made with my erection pointing straight upward under my sweats as you walked up to the sofa.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" I asked, almost in disbelief as you guided me to the bedroom.

We walked to the bedroom door and you insisted I go first. "I'm not telling you this to start a conversation or a debate," you said as you leaned back against the door. "But it does feel like I'm supposed to be with you."

Still not certain if I was awake or having another very vivid dream, I stood there for a moment, motionless and mummy-like as I gazed at you. It was difficult to see you clearly as the only illumination in the room was from the few wisps of moonlight that filtered in through the window.

You started to walk toward me. "Oh shit," you thought to yourself when you saw the blank expression on my face. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"You okay?" you asked, reaching up to touch my face.

My eyes moved over and became intertwined within your gaze. "Either I died and went to heaven, or I'm dreaming, or my prayers have been answered!" I said In a voice hoarse from happiness.

I felt your hand run down over my face. "You're certainly not dead, and I'm fairly certain you're not dreaming," I hear you say. You look in my eyes and see the passion, the tenderness, and the desire for you, all of which you can tell are authentic. "Come on, let's lay down," you suggest, taking my hand and leading me to the side of the bed. You now know what's in my heart and all of your fears, apprehension, and worries seem to vanish.

"Oh Sweetheart, I can't be here with you and even hope to control myself," I again confess to you as you gently push me down so I'm sitting on the bed. You watch my expression as you push me on the bed, me landing flat on my back. I'm watching you closely also. I could tell the instant that you fully realized you didn't just see a man that wanted you. You saw a man who respects you. A man who has the most sincerest of hearts. A man who has offered himself to you, not in the physical sense, but in a compassionate, emotional way as you have many times envisioned in your dreams and hopes.