Do you enjoy the beach? The feel of the sand, warm and dry, cool and wet, powdered coarseness becoming smooth silk beneath the soles of your bare feet. The sound of the sea, the tempered roar of its eternal ebb and flow. The sunset, burnt ochre sinking slowly to oblivion beneath the distant horizon.
How would you like to go to the beach? Inky blue night above us, a hint of cyan banding the distance. A whisper of sea breeze. No sound, save for the surf. No people, save for the two of us, dark outlines amongst the shadows.
Face the ocean.
I’m standing close behind you; there’s a crisp tang of salt air in your nostrils as my fingers slowly undo the buttons along the front of your dress. Both of us know that you’re utterly naked beneath the thin cotton. The delicious rush of cool air against your skin as I draw the two halves of your dress apart, exposing you to the elements, to the night. Your skin becomes as gooseflesh, your nipples stiff, drawn into proud peaks by the chill.
I cup your full breasts, gently mould them to my grasp, your nipples bullet hard against the centres of my palms. I’m hard too, my cock straining within its confines, eagerly pressing against the soft curves of your arse, hungry for the kiss of your searing flesh. You reach behind yourself, knowing hands traversing my loins, grasping greedily at the hardness beneath.
You turn; we kiss. Even as our tongues dance and entwine, your hands are working at my belt, my zip. I slip the dress from your shoulders, and it glides down your body, pooling in a half-circle at your feet.
Two figures, alone in a night-time sensual seascape. One naked body, glittering like the ocean . . .
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not your first comment, just to say it is nice to read other about a married men talking about his sexuality and not sounding like smut-raker
Thank you.
The beach is good at any time, I am lucky, I live within 10 minutes of the Med…
Mmmm. That does sound lucky…
~EA