He Would Not Let Me In

He Would Not Let Me In
The Saga Of A Night. That Ended In Nothing.

We had plans. To go to the beach. Nothing was set for afterward. Just to meet and see what happened.
I arrived to darkness and the sound of a crashing shore. He was there in the blackness.
We walked. We held on to one another. We sat in the cool wet sand and kissed a tender kiss.
We walked more, drank wine. Kissed, held hands, walked some more. He rubbed my feet in the harsh hand and made me comfortable.
We kissed again. I undid his pants, licked, sucked, licked more. He did not want me. He just did not want to experience.
So I kissed him, and he kissed me, he kissed my breasts. Then kissed my insides with his tongue. He slid his fingers into my moistness.
I was hot, moaning and pleased. He pushed a sandy finger into my ass. He pulled it out and thrust it in again. He licked again. I came on his lips.
I kissed him again. I wanted him inside me. He would not comply. He did not want what I had to offer.
So we walked and sat again. And he kissed me again. And I kissed his chest. And he kissed my neck. And we sat under stars and then he put his hands into my wetness and stroked me as I nuzzled his neck and bit him gently.
We walked on. It was too much for him. I was too much sweetness, too much of what he wanted. What he desired, what he really needed. And so he ran.
Or so it seemed to me.