My Beautiful Surprise

He had that luxurious feeling born of warmth on one's skin coupled with the erotic electricity of sexual awareness. His heavy, wavy mane was fluffed with body after his thirty-minute brushing and hung like a great dark cape that responded to errant breezes. Mark decided to linger outside and lowered himself to a nearby lounge.

With the quiet of his back yard and warmth of the early morning summer sun came a delicious drowsiness. He arranged his long hair, then lay back, closed his thighs after laying his now softening penis atop them, and began to recall the first time he and Madison had met two years ago.

- - - - - - - - -

Mark was exhausted after a long day trying to explain the varying strengths in reactive armor plate to a pair of managers from Washington. They were far more interested in playing golf than grasping the intricacies of additional armor plating on tanks and armored fighting vehicles. By early afternoon he would have preferred a cold barium enema to what he was doing. Nevertheless, by sheer force of will he consummated an arrangement of a $15 million contract and at the same time was on the verge of strangling the two agents from GenTex Industries. A migraine headache had set up shop inside his head and had begun ripping out parts of his brain.

Without even attempting to eat supper he went straight to his hotel room, collapsed on the bed in his clothes and fell asleep. A fumbling sound at his door woke him, and the red figures on his bedside clock unblinkingly informed him that it was 11:30. He heard someone attempting to turn the knob, so he moved groggily out of bed, swept aside the half of his hair that hung over his left shoulder, and wearily cracked the door to the hallway.

Mark's voice stuck in his throat as he peered out at one of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. As he struggled toward full awareness he noted shoulder length blonde hair, a rounded face with grey-green eyes and an embarrassed smile, a charcoal colored blazer over an intriguingly short skirt, a white blouse that gave him a quick impression it was straining under pressure from beneath and the best pair of legs in his recent memory.