There’s a beach near where I live. Not a sandy nice sunbathing beach, it’s rocky and there are tangles of dead wood and driftwood along the water, and 50 feet inland there are not-quite-cliffs. They’re just dirt, but held together with roots and stuff so in a pinch you can climb them. If, for example, you judge time wrong and the tide starts coming in before you’ve gotten to the parking area. Then you have to scramble with some haste, or you’ll get a soaking. And the water is COLD.
It’s beautiful though, plenty of rock pools and interesting stones. Really fun to wander, not in any hurry, poking around for critters, finding pretty pebbles. There are a couple of places where there are ledges halfway up the cliff face and you can sit and dangle your feet, have a picnic if you were smart enough to bring one.
I’ve no idea if it’s still there, but a loooong time ago, about half a mile down the beach, there was a spot where a big tree had fallen. The tide had scooped out a hollow at the base of its roots, and driftwood and stormwrack had collected over time. The result was a sort of natural lean-to, with a flat sandy floor and walls and ceiling of tangled branches. Big enough for two, even lying down, as long as they didn’t mind being very close together.
I would take you there. Bring my awesome waterproof picnic blanket that folds into a pillow with a handle, a bottle of something to drink, some nibbles, an extra blanket or two. Check the tide chart ahead of time (made that mistake once and that romance didn’t survive the dunking. We’d stroll hand in hand down the beach, on a chill day – foggy, maybe a light sprinkle, anything that would keep the families and metal detectorists away.
Make our way to the spot, set ourselves up a picnic on my blanket, wrap the others around us to keep in our body heat. Have a drink or two, feed each other whatever we’ve brought. It’s private and romantic, the sound of the surf drowns out the freeway noise on the other side of the bluffs.
You tuck my hair behind my ear and I shiver slightly. You tip my chin up to look into your eyes and ask if I’m cold. I bite my lip and shake my head no, as another tremor sweeps over me. You lean in and kiss me, hand cupping the back of my head, pulling me toward you. Your tongue flickers out, grazes my lips, which part in invitation. You pull back a bit, breathing heavily, and caress my neck and shoulder, then slide the strap of my top off my shoulder and run your hand down my arm to my hand.
This brings you back in close, and you kiss me harder, deeper, bearing me backward, supporting me with the hand that led the way. I pull you with me as you lay me down, refusing to break the kiss. Your weight is half on me, half to the side, and you push yourself up, looking down at me, my hair fanned out around my head, getting sand in it.
I stare into your eyes, unblinking, my pupils dilated slightly, and you can’t look away. We stay like that for who knows how long, until I unconsciously touch my bottom lip with my tongue, just the slightest movement, but it draws your attention. Then my mouth is all you can think about and you can’t help but kiss me, tongue more insistent, lightly catching my lip in your teeth. Your hand moves up to cup my breast, squeezing, grazing my already tight nipple with your thumb.
My breath catches and I arch up into your hand, making a small sound into your mouth, which drives you even wilder. Your hand roams my body, you can’t get enough, need to touch all of me. You pinch one nipple, the other, down my side to my hip, grabbing, pulling me toward you, almost frantic.
You tear your lips from mine and look at me for a moment, breathing hard, eyes wild, lips red and swollen, before falling on me again with a groaned “God, you’re fucking beautiful!” Kissing my neck, biting, sucking. There will be marks there later, claiming me as your property, but now there’s only the smoothness of my skin, the slight hint of my sweat, the sound of my reaction in your ear.
My hands are moving on your body too, never still, stroking your chest, shoulders, arms. Clutching and pulling, searching for a way into your clothes, needing to feel your skin. You pull back just long enough to rip your shirt over your head and drop it in the sand. My hands resume their frantic exploration, scratching now. Your skin is hot and smooth and your muscles are strong beneath. Your hand moves down my waist and struggles with the button on my jeans.
Impatient, I lift my hips and yank them down past my ass, letting you pull them the rest of the way down. This brings your face close to my sex, and I lift my hips again, opening my thighs slightly, shaping a figure 8 with my hips before lowering them to the ground and spreading my legs wider. You lick your lips, staring at the darkness between my legs, feeling heat rising off of me in waves. You can smell my desire for you, see my hips still making small urgent movements.
I open my thighs even wider, thrusting my pussy toward you, and you sink your face into me, inhaling deeply, one hand smoothing my hair and parting my lips slightly so you can see how wet I am. You groan as you taste me, salt and sweet and rich, plunging your tongue as deep as you can, dimly hearing me cry out, barely aware of my hands now buried in your hair.
You explore every crevice, needing to taste all of me, riding the movements of my hips as I buck and thrust, desperate for something, unsure what. Every fresh surge of creamy wetness that hits your tongue just makes you need it more, and you’re moaning nonstop as you fuck my pussy with your tongue.
My hands are controlling your head, forcing your mouth onto me, hips bucking, grinding my pussy into your face. You can’t breathe but you’ll worry about that later, now you need to keep plunging your tongue into me, your thumb finding my clit and rolling it in small circles while I fuck your face, until you feel me clenching on your tongue and taste another rush of fluid. I hold still a moment, spasming under your mouth, my cries suddenly loud in the stillness, then I call your name and my orgasm breaks over me, wave after wave that I ride out with your mouth clamped to my pussy. Thrusting rhythmically over and over, whimpering as each pulse washes over me, slowly diminishing.
Finally my hands slip from your head and you can suck in a giant breath of fresh air, scented with sex. My hips subside, still moving spasmodically, my breathing is harsh and loud. I’m still whimpering, eyes closed, face flushed. You look up from between my legs, seeing me completely vulnerable, still riding the ebbing waves of bliss, and your breath catches.
In a single motion you’re up and poised between my legs, hand fumbling with your fly. Then your cock is free, rock hard, throbbing, aching with need. Pre-come beads the tip, seeping out steadily, the head is taut, skin shiny. You grasp yourself, gasping at the touch of your own hand, you’re so hungry for touch.
You rise up between my splayed thighs, guiding yourself to my entrance. I’m hot, wet, my flesh soft and slick. I gasp and twitch when you press into me, your head stretching me, so hard there’s no give. I’m panting, clutching, suddenly as needy as you are, and you pause with the swollen head of your cock just barely forcing its way into me. My hole is tightening and releasing, trying to pull you into me. You feel my hips trembling, the tendons in my inner thighs hard against your hips.
I relax my legs, opening them all the way, surrendering, opening myself to you, and you plunge into me like you’re falling. We both cry out as you fill me, forcing yourself to my core, feeling every nerve responding. I grip you tightly, but you slide easily in the slick heat. Your head nudges my cervix, a slight hardness at the deepest point of every thrust. When you draw back, my pussy clutches, drawing you back in, slight suction on the head as you pull almost all the way out, then ram back in, balls slapping against my asshole, which you can feel pulsing.
My legs wrap around yours, pulling you deeper, my nails scratching down your back, hands grabbing your hips, urging you faster, harder, deeper. Our cries are louder, breathless, gasping. I’m pleading for something, you can’t hear what over your own blood roaring in your ears. You lose your sense of time and space, aware of nothing but the sensation of my cunt on your cock, my passion and yours, the building tension in your balls and belly.
My movements are agitated, frantic, then I freeze for a moment. Time stops. You feel your heart beat once, twice, then my cunt squeezes your cock to the point of near pain, and you hear me crying “Fuck me, god, please, fuck me!” as I start to come with the unstoppable power of an earthquake, spasming around you.
You thrust once or twice more, jerkily, then force yourself as deep as you can, scrabbling in the sand, clutching, trying to get even deeper. Then you roar as you flood me with pulse after pulse of come. Shaking, cursing, your cock jerking inside me with every spurt, causing an answering clench in my cunt, milking you, drawing out both our orgasms longer than we thought possible. Until we finally collapse, still joined, still pulsing fitfully, the last aftershocks continuing to roll over us for long seconds as our breathing slows and the world seeps back into our senses. It’s chilly, and the tide will be coming in soon, right on schedule. For a moment, I feel like I understand the tide – I already feel an irresistible need to return to this beach.