Dear Diary,
I don’t ever want to leave this place. Not ever! The Pines is heaven, if heaven was an adults-only wellness retreat in the Rocky Mountains. The air is crisp and clean, and we can see the gorgeous mountains so clearly. And there are angels here too, in their white golf shirts and pants or skirts, with absolutely divine fingers and hands. They work miracles on the massage table… I haven’t seen them turn water to wine or multiply loaves and fishes, but the food is amazing (even if is, ugh, healthy) and so is the wine.
I’m not even going to apologise for not writing every day, but I’ve been trying to make the most of every moment. It’s been so good to get away with George, to unplug, and let our stress go. We should have done this years ago, but we are making up for lost time. Every day of the past week we’ve been busy relaxing, as weird as that sounds. I learned the rudiments of golf, and in return George agreed to try yoga.
Oh, he grumbled, but he gave it his all, and I love him for it. And I loved that it was yet another chance to see him move that gorgeous body of his, the muscles in his arms and chest and legs flexing and rippling as he switched between poses. To see him in Warrior, or Triangle warmed me up more than the yoga. And when he did the Crow? I was actually nervous my desire would be obvious to the whole class in the crotch of my leggings, that’s how wet I felt. About halfway through the class, I switched places with George, so that I was on the mat in front of him. All the better for you to check out my ass as I do Tree or Downward Dog, my dear!
We had barely stepped back inside our room after class when he was on me,...
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Read all about the wonderful author: JK Mill
i want to come to this place