Breathing in afresh you now smell the weight of a seemingly endless green blue sea, the heavy scent of salt carried inward on a dry cool breeze, the majesty of a mermaids fragrance, mingling with a dark Arabian desert. A zephyr stroking the seductive surface of you, whispering exotic secrets of precious stones, spice and riches. Of wild men, strong and sure, who would kill or die, and trade their souls, to be the wind in your hair. And all the while the sun continues to lovingly penetrate your every pore.

Wandering free, your mind moves to the myriad of incomprehensible colors competing to project fluid motion against your closed eyelids. You relax more deeply and begin blending the salt-sea-scents within spectral visual ranges, their shapes shifting, fleetingly forming then morphing, passing through entities unknown.

You see reds, the color of blushing cheeks, following the flattery your beautiful body commands but cannot control. Purples, the color of passionate bruises painted sinfully upon your skin, where galaxies of brooding blood vessels long to be broken. 

Amber-green, the colors of your eyes, tie-dyed, crackling luminescent. Black, the color of dark night skies, spent and silent. Pink, the color of guilt that hides inside you, visions of lust, love and luxury. 

Chrome-Yellow, these golden Mediterranean sunbeams bursting between the frequent breaks found in sheer-white far-away clouds, the cumulus and cumulonimbus caravans of fattened fluff, filled with iridescent innocence and wonder.

Involuntarily you draw your knees upward and inward, filling your imagination with the memory and feeling of your heels smooshing against soft sand. 

You reach out, your arms spread on either side, palms facing downward, caressing the sugar granules of perfect bleach-white sands, the heat trapped against the crust of every grain, warming the surface of your fingers as you gradually brush the blade of your palms through the surface, feeling the warm, dry, coarse grained resistance, yielding to your increased stretch.

With your arms extended either side, you lower your knees, holding them together, your pose crucified, you extend your long legs and project your energy downward, pleasuring your toes, pushing them further from you and feeling them delight as they tease and giggle, burrowing childlike through the white heat of the soft sandy surface.

Drawing your forearms inward stroking the surface of the silica with your palms and finger tips, the reflected heat permeates, resonating with the luxuriant ultraviolet that continues to drench and caress your every surface. 

Unbidden, your hands wander across your hips, discovering your thighs, then drawing upward over your flattened stomach toward your slender chest and breast. 

Your palms stroke at the loose soft linen that surrounds you and as they motion upward, sweeping their caress over your taut torso. They pull at the material that shrouds you and you delight in the mixed sensations, the salt breeze a confusion, both cool and warm at once.

The light caress of the air slipping silently beneath the linen and kissing gently at your long, silky smooth, bronze-oiled legs. The sound of tidal water beginning to reach deeper into your senses, lapping long rhythmic strokes up onto the beach. 

You connect with the curling of each gentle wave, and from the sound alone you can summon a sense how smooth the water really is, this beach, likely a smugglers bay, a natural harbor and hideaway, shielded from the wild sea.

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