Just Off the Beach

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At the end of a long evening, we were walking back along the beach. We’d been with friends, eating, laughing, hanging out. All the usual clichés apply: sandals off, walking in the wet sand where it’s a bit firmer and easier, warm breeze but cool water around our ankles. We’re holding hands, just, fingertips, and talking, but we’re not really talking about anything, this is just fore-foreplay.

While we were in the restaurant, everybody was laughing and talking, and I looked across at her, admiring her for a few seconds, and then she turned and made eye contact. Not just eye contact, but a connection. There’s a look, and then there’s that look. No more than a second or two, but there’s that thing we have, when you know: not so much I want you as we want – need – each other. From that moment on, I’m just playing along, half in the conversation, but all I can really feel is the blood in my body, the air on my skin, and S out of the corner of my eye. We keep glancing at each other. No mistake, this is a shared excitement.

We finally bail out, along the beach and up the side track, back to the apartment we’re renting. Fingers hooked, bumping into each other casually but not, it’s with intention; each nudge, passing caress, eye contact, sends me a little bit crazier every time as we get closer. I’m relishing the wait, but at the same, I can’t wait. Our arms are then around each others’ waists, me pulling her close, her pulling me back, the brush of her hair against me, her smell, smile, the sense of her. This is already intense.

When we get in and close the door, we stand, looking at each other, palms open and touching, just looking. I’m falling into her eyes as she smiles, but only slightly – she’s serious about this. We hold it as long as we can, which isn’t long, but enough to prolong the tension, the feeling of being on the edge. I feel like my head’s going to explode and we haven’t even started. My skin’s tingling, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry with the sheer want of this. I can’t really think.

She finally reaches in to kiss me. Our fingers entwine, bodies press closer, her lips feel amazing, her wet tongue, the smell of sunshine, of shampoo in her hair. She tastes divine, I just want to be pressed against, inside, as close as we can possibly be. Now we’re over the edge, everything else is a foregone conclusion, it’s just a question of how we get there, and how long it all takes.

I slip both hands under her top, stroking her stomach, feeling her softness, then circle her waist, discerning the tiny hairs on her back as I trace a line up her spine. Our faces are close together, we’re nose to nose, sharing breath as she fake hospital porno holds the front of my shorts, just to keep me close, as I run my fingertips across the skin of her back to hold her there, before kissing her ears, smelling her neck, kissing and biting her there. She’s already getting turned on, I can smell it on her, a hint of sex already. I’m rock solid, I was half way there on walk across the beach, there’s no question about me not being ready to go.

We kiss and kiss and kiss, pressed close. She’s holding my head, I’ve got one hand on her thigh, the other under her arm. I reach inside the hem of her dress with both hands, touching as gently as I can – she loves that – and trace lines across the front of both of her thighs, my fingernails tracing tiny lines in her skin that disappear almost immediately. I’m getting closer, close to the front of her bikini bottoms under her skirt, touching almost accidentally, once, then coming back twice, and again. I feel against the edge, then just past the fabric, running my fingers up and down just inside. Then I pull them down, push up her skirt, kneel, lean forwards, and kiss her once, firmly, holding it, on her pussy lips.

She pulls me back to one of the easy chairs, falling backwards onto it. I’m on my knees again, leaning over her, her legs open as we kiss, and we laugh with the joy of this, of how good this feels, how right, and how it’s just going to get better and better. I pull away from our kiss, look her in the eye, and make my way south. She scoots her bum forwards, leans back, and lifts her feet right up onto the edge of the chair, pushing her skirt up and letting me get right to her. I stroke the insides of her thighs, her knees, shins, feet, where I rest my hands, holding her in place, and lower my head to her. The smell of her, her sex, is rich, and such a turn on. I blow on her pussy, gently, then kiss her there once, stop, then kiss her there again. We have all the time in the world.

Two kisses become three, then I run my tongue up her pussy crack, maybe millimetres inside, kissing gently, then harder. Her entrance is super-wet, and I slide my tongue in and out, gently fucking her with my tongue, tasting her wetness. She’s delicious. I want to take my time, but also to make her come, so I focus on her clit for a minute, circling, flicking, as she groans. Then I move away, teasing the rest of her, running by beard and lips up her inner thighs, stroking from her knees and shins, and feet again. Then I slip the tips of two fingers into her, just enough to be inside but not far, and make my way slowly but surely back to her clit with fake taxi porno my tongue.

I press my whole tongue against her nub, applying flat pressure, then trace around, both sides, round again, from underneath, from above, just the tip, then more. The patterns I run feel random, almost accidental, but the aim is clear – her pleasure. She’s holding my head, with her legs wide and resting on my shoulders as I pay more and more attention to flicking her clit with my tongue, my chin wet with her now, my senses full of her smell, my fingers half inside, slding in and out slowly, just to apply some inner pressure. She grips my hair, says ‘don’t stop’, so I do, but only for a few seconds, for her to say ‘bastard’, laughingly.

Here we go. Her groans are getting louder, more frequent, she seems lost to this, as I lick and lick and lick, stroke and stroke, until finally I feel her tense on my fingers, hold it, and then, with an ‘Nnnnnnngh!’, she’s even wetter than before, her pussy clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing, strongly and then weaker and weaker. There’s a gap of a few seconds, then an aftershock, and another, and another. She loses all the tension she’d been holding, falls back against the chair, exhales slowly, and I kiss her pussy a few times to make her twitch before moving up and kiss her properly, our faces now wet with our spit and her juices.

I pull off both of her tops all in one, and she pulls off mine as I wriggle out of my shorts and she sheds her skirt. The bikini bottoms are long gone. Now naked, we sit in the chair – I’m in the chair properly, she’s on top, facing each other. We’re, kissing, looking, teasing. Our faces are close, out bodies not quite, she’s holding my cock with one hand, firmly, sliding up and down, not fast, but with intent. It feels good, and keeps ‘him’ in the game. Her legs are over the arms of the chair, she’s so open, so ready for more, and for a while we sit there, now grinding and kissing, as I rub my cock against her wetness, as she rubs her wetness against my cock. After a while she lifts herself up a little, shifts forwards, and feeds me into her slowly, before letting herself back down; we’re together-together. We don’t move much, just enjoying the closeness for a while. We kiss, stroke, there’s the odd grind, but this feels good as it is, until we want more.

After a while, I slide down a little in the chair and she leans forwards onto me. I’m now able to pull out a bit, and push back in, and she can also get more traction, too. Our faces are close again, her breasts are against me, I feel them with one hand, pinching occasionally as we kiss wetly, family stroke porno and I start to push myself in and out, and she lifts herself up and lowers herself down a little each time. I’m coming almost all of the way out, and then all the way back in again, which feels insane. The feeling of closeness and relaxation we’d been holding fades away as it becomes a half fuck; we care, we’re still connected, but this is mostly just raunchy now. It’s pumping, it’s more animal, more needy.

I have one hand under M’s arse, trying to set the height and rhythm, the other one still on one of her breasts. I can feel, at a distance, that feeling inside, almost a tickle. It fades away, then returns, as we screw into and out of each other, kissing, on and off all the time. I want to make her come again if I can, so I place two fingers against her clit, using her wetness to coat it. I hope she’s going to come soon, I’m not sure how long I can wait now. That tickle is no longer a tickle, it’s an ever-present twinge, and it’s getting closer.

I actually have to tell her to slow down and pull almost all of the way out, then take a deep breath, exhaling slowly to try and make the feeling abate a little. I want to come, but at the same time I don’t, I want this to go on for longer. Then I’m deep inside again, and she’s pressed against me, I bury my face into her neck, holding her as close as I can. Staying deep inside, she grinds herself against me and I swivel back, which stimulates her more than me, which is the point. It’s still only delaying the inevitable for me, but she’s is thankfully closer now than I am. She suddenly stops, tenses, grab my shoulder, and there she is. She’s groaning slightly, squeezing my cock with her pussy as she comes, and I’m really very close now. Her orgasm brings me such pleasure, turns me on even more.

We wait until her orgasm has passed, for her to enjoy every sensation of it, then we go again. I’m pushing up, falling back, urgently now, fucking upwards with more urgency and she looks me in the eye, willing me to get there. The twinge is back, it grows, comes forwards, closer, and closer. I focus on it now, clenching as it arrives to prolong it, that almost sharp pain inside as I fall off the edge. I try to hold it for a second or two, but it’s too much, and then I’m past it and pumping my come up into her. She’s pleased about it, she holds me close as I come. It almost hurts, it’s like an ache afterwards, but a good one. I’m suddenly useless, helpless, almost undead.

We sit there for a while, me still inside, half hard, our shared wetness holding us together, bodies fully against each other as our hearts slow down and we enjoy the skin on skin, with her straddling me but leaning against me. We’re at one, at peace, no barriers, nothing hidden, truly ourselves. After a while we kiss again, gently, then wetly, smiling at the joy, naturalness, the sheer easiness of this between us. This is so good, so fine. It as it should be.

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