Beach Rendezvous

Still kneeling behind your head, and with more butter, warmed and in both hands I start on the front of your shoulders. Working evenly. Hands symmetrical. Pushing forward down your body. The top of your breasts. Almost as far as your nipples. Now circular motions, out at the top, in at the bottom, until I am covering your entire breasts with each hand. With every pass from outside to in your hard little nipples get squashed down under each finger and spring up in the gaps between. I slow. Stopping. Cupping your breasts in each hand.

More Cocoa Butter.

I work downward over your tummy and toward your hips. As I stretch forward to reach, I carefully push my waist down toward you. Jet letting to end of my cock brush over your lips.

You weren't sure at first – but the second time I did it you put your tongue out and licked the entire length of my shaft as I moved up and down your body.

As I reach the top of your thighs to start massaging, I turn my thumbs downward, sliding my hands between your legs, parting them gently on the upward stroke. There is no hesitation from you. You cannot see – you just let me get on with it.

I have to move to give attention to your legs. I get up and walk round you. Dragging my towel, bringing the Cocoa Butter, and planting myself between your feet.

Oh a foot massage. So sensual. So often overlooked. Unhurried. Firm. The final affirmation that when in love your partner loves all of you, not just your sex organs. I spend more time on your feet than perhaps the rest of your body combined. Working my thumbs into your pads. Your arch, your instep. Each toe. Between each toe. Extra effort on the heel. Manipulating. Caressing. Rubbing. Allowing the butter to soak in and soften the skin. I gently suck on your big toe at the end of each foot massage.

Now I start on your lower legs. Working from your ankles upward. Your skin is tight. Smooth. Muscles defined. Beautiful. Your thighs. Lovely. Soft. Giving.

As I maneuver your legs around to massage them I cant help but admire your gorgeous pussy below your little patch of pubic hair. It's winking at me. Inviting me in. Glistening with the wetness of its own juices.

I ask you to turn over, lay face downward so that I can do the backs of your legs. You do and I do. Slowly – from ankle upward again. More pressure this time on the bigger muscles.

I spread your legs a little more. Moving myself forward between your knees.

With Cocoa Butter – lots, I place my hand on each buttock. Just leaving them there for a moment. Moving just my thumbs and exploring the crease between your bum and your thighs. Working the butter into your skin.

Now harder. Moving my body forward, my weight pushing down, compressing your glutes. Rotating, twisting my hands. Moving to the sides – then back to the center. Each time I move outward, it pulls your cheeks apart and I can see your cute little arsehole, puckered, hairless, lickable.

I stroke gently now. Running just my fingertips through the Cocoa Butter on your cheeks. Coating them. Getting ready.

Starting from the bottom of your spine, I run my fingers down the crack of your bum, letting the Cocoa Butter cover the last untouched parts of your body. I see you physically shiver as my fingertips pass over your anus.

As my right hand reaches the bottom of your pussy, I withdraw and start it again at the base of your spine – dragging downward. When my left hand hand reaches the bottom of your pussy, I do the same – starting a repeating motion of each hand running from your spine to your cunt.

I move a little backward to reach the Cocoa Butter. I take a small amount on my finger tips. Squashing it, rubbing it around my fingers and thumb.

I look at you laying there with your legs apart. Exposed. Vulnerable.

You are leaking.

There is a drip of pussy juice nestling in your pubic hair. You must be very turned on. I move closer.

Reaching with my left hand, I reach underneath you, wipe that little white creamy droplet onto my index finger, and place it in my mouth. I use my tongue to spread it all around. Mixing it with my saliva. Tasting. It is ambrosia itself.

With my right hand covered in Cocoa Butter I reach down. Starting gently at the top of your pubes – touching. Teasing.

You want it so much you lift your hips, arching your back, giving me easier access. I drag my two fingers slowly through your pubic hair to your clitoris. Pausing only long enough for a quick circle around it. I don't think I have every felt it so hard.

Continuing my journey, I slowly stroke my two fingers down the inside of your lips until I find the entrance to your vagina. I tease it. Work round it. I am being a complete bastard to you. You are so desperate for it – but I wont give it to you.

I place my thumb on your arsehole. Teasing. Pressing gently. But like with your cunt, I have not penetrated you.

I shift my focus from one hole to the other and back. Each time just tempting you, suggesting that this may be the time that I slide inside you. I know exactly what effect I am having on you. My fingers are getting wet from your juices. Your natural lubrication. Produced to aid coitus and therefore fertilization. You are a slave to evolution. A slave to your genetics. Tonight you are my slave.

I know that with one sense deprived, your others compensate. You hearing is sharper. Sense of smell keener. Taste and touch heightened. I can see the carotid artery in your neck pulsing. Your heart pumping. Your whole body hot.

I slide my two fingers into you. Only a centimeter. Just to the first knuckle. Twisting a little. Opening you. I push my thumb downward. Making your little rosebud arsehole open to engulf the very tip. Just a centimeter or two – to the first knuckle again.

I pull my fingers out slowly – never leaving contact with your body. Stroking swiftly round to touch your clit and then back to where the came from. I extract my thumb and tease around the outside your arsehole.

Fingers in. A little deeper. Two knuckles. Twisting. Stimulating.

Thumb in – another centimeter deeper. Rocking – back and forth. Working their way alternately inside you.

I take my time.

Even before my fingers are fully inside you the juices are dripping from your cunt. I squeeze my thumb and forefingers together, feeling the thin wall between your rectum and vagina.

Working as a team now – I pull them almost all the way out together. And then thrust them back in. Hard. You almost squeal, clapping your hand over your mouth just in time. Again – I frig you. Three digits, two holes. In and out in unison.

You move your hands to your sides – using them to push your body backwards toward me and life your arse in the air. Your tits, shoulders and head still on the towel. You are presenting yourself. You are giving yourself to me. Inviting me to use you. Inviting me to pleasure you. To bring you to the edge and beyond.

This position is actually easier. I can comfortable masturbate you and with my left hand reach underneath to tease you labia or clitoris. So I do.

When I touch your clit you jump. I guess it is sensitive. With your left hand you grab mine and find my middle finger. Placing it just about your clitoral hood. You push my finger. Letting me feel the pressure. Moving it it in arcs from left to right. You are teaching me. You are showing me what you need me to do to make you cum.

I follow your instruction and you let go of my hand. I see you slide your left hand underneath your left breast. And I notice your right hand quickly follow. Although I cannot see, I can tell from the muscles flexing in your forearms that you are squeezing your own nipples.

Your breathing is getting shallower – faster.

You hand streaks down from your tits to your cunt. You push my hand away forcefully and start rubbing. Wanking. Hard. I hold your hip with my now free hand and try to match the pace of my movements to your hand. I can't go that fast. My fingers are flashing in and out of your cunt. My thumb deep in and out of your arsehole. My right hand covered in your pussy juices. The smell of sex in the air even overpowering the jasmine.

Your hips start bucking, thrashing. There is an explosion of thick, creamy, almost sticky but at the same time slippery, juices from your pussy. Enveloping my fingers. Your arsehole tightens around my thumb. The squelching noises from your rubbing yourself, loud, clear, wetter!

You scream and almost jump forward to get away from my hand. My fingers and thumb released from their holes.

I watch you laying face down on the towel. Still writhing. Almost convulsing. Knees bent, feet in the air. Your calf muscles tight, almost kicking yourself in the butt. You are biting your right hand. Your left hand holding and cupping your pussy. Saving it from any more stimulation.

I move to your side and lay down facing you. Watching as you calm down.

I reach over and run my fingernails down your back.

"Get off me!" you snap, pulling the sleep mask off.

It's ok. I know it is because your whole body is so sensitive now I cannot touch you. It just drives you wild.

I smile to myself. Happy.

...

It takes nearly an hour for you to come down.

The evening warmth, past sunset, the first stars starting to show in the dusky sky.

"So, do you want dessert now?" I ask with a twinkle in my eye.

Before waiting for an answer, I reach behind me and present you with...

...a banana!

You laugh. I don't know if it was comedic or relief, but you are smiling, laughing, having fun.

I share the last of the whiskey with you. The ice is all but gone. Melted. Returned to its previous fluid state.

"Do you have anywhere special to be tonight?" I ask you.

"Actually, as you come to mention it, I had planned to take you home to meet my family properly, tell them we are an item, then take you to my bed to rest, before driving you to the registrar tomorrow where you are going to marry me."

I was sure there must have been a look of shock on my face, because a pregnant pause later, you punch me on the shoulder and say "I am just joking you idiot.","...although the thought had entered my mind."

"No, I don't have any plans for tonight."

"Good – lets break the law and make a fire."

"I am going to rinse off – you start." you say, getting up and heading toward the sea.

I disassemble our sun-shade. Not much point having it now.

I can see you in the last light. Knee deep. Scooping cupped handfuls of water up and over your skin. Washing of a multitude of bodily fluids we had amassed during our day on the beach. I pick up our towels and tidy the general area, putting stuff back in the cool box so it doesn't get lost, and I lay the sheet out on the sand. I put the towels on top of one half, so we can fold it over us and perhaps keep some of the mosquitoes off.

I start collecting driftwood of various sizes to make a campfire. The moon is just rising over the trees behind the beach. The light, silvery, magical.

I glance toward you, just in time to see you squat down into the water, submerging your hips. I am guessing you are peeing and I can't help but feel a little disappointed to be missing it. I watch as you put your left hand into the water in front of you and unmistakably from the movements wipe your pussy with your fingers.

We meet at the end of the tree-trunk – Me with handfuls of wood, you dripping wet and glistening in the moonlight like being covered in fairy dust.

"The water is so warm. We should go for a swim together later." you wink at me.

"OK – Maybe later. Let me get the fire going first." I reply, giving you the sweetest of pecks on your lips as we pass.

You pick up your towel and start to dry off. "You are probably better off using my towel." I say. "Yours is still a little damp from earlier." And it sure was, when I made our 'bed' one end of the towel was saturated in your juices. I had surreptitiously lifted it to my face when you weren't looking and inhaled deeply. The smell of your sex is like a drug, and I was high on it.

You grabbed my towel and continued to dry yourself.

It didn't take me long to make a small fire. It was safe. It a pit. Surrounded by rocks. A ready woodpile next to it so I didn't need to go foraging. The advantages of being a Scout eh? I had lit it with a splint, using the flame from the jasmine candle. Not even the need to rub two sticks together.

We didn't really need the fire, we didn't have anything that needed cooking – it might help with the mosquitoes, but the real reason was the romance. And romantic it was. The sound of the waves lapping gently on the sea shore; the light of the moon reflecting on the water; the crackle of the twigs as they burned on the fire – itself making dancing shadows on the tree trunk and on the cliff behind us.

I didn't want the moment to end. It's not the first time today, and might not be the last... but I clearly thought to myself "I wish this could go on like this for ever".

You grabbed the glasses from where I had set them on the tree trunk. "We finished the Whiskey darling." I said.

"Really?" was your reply as you pulled an unopened bottle from your rucksack. I burst out laughing.

I had a keeper here.

We snuggled under half a sheet – it was king size so more than enough to cover us. We lay face to face on our sides. Our arms propping our heads up so we could talk and drink. We spoke about plans, the future, the past, the moon and the stars. We spoke of love, and of pain. Of desires and difficulties. I have never been more in touch, never been more in sync, never been more in love with a person as I am with you.

The moon is higher now. Bright enough to light the whole beach.

Some movement in the distance catches my eye. I am surprised. The couple from earlier are still there. I had assumed they left at sunset.

"Don't look now." I said, "but the people on the beach earlier are still here... and they are walking toward us."

"Shit!" you whisper. "Do you think they heard us?"

"shhh..." I whisper. We lay. Cuddling. Pretending that they are not coming.

They appear from around the bottom of the tree trunk, holding hands. Him wearing cargo shorts, Pink T-Shirt, and flip-flops. Her in denim cutoffs, tank-top and leathers sandals. Maybe mid to late thirties. Sun beached hair. Nice smiles.

"Hi. Good evening." the man says. The lady just smiles.

I untangle myself from you. Sitting up. Looking at them in the flickering firelight. You remain laying down. Pulling the sheet up to your chin, hiding your nakedness from these strangers.

"Hey, how are you doing?" I offer as a greeting.

"Good thanks." There was an antipodean twang in his voice. Probably Australian. Not harsh. Maybe Western Australia. Perhaps Perth.

"We just thought we would come and introduce ourselves as it looks like we will be sharing the beach tonight."

"Cool – come, have a seat" I say. "Would you like a whiskey?". I know I can't help myself, I am just too nice. "We only have two glasses though."

"Ah, no worries. We brought these..." he said, as they simultaneously brought their free hands from behind their backs, each one holding a four-pack of Amstel.

"Fucking Excellent! I am Trevor, this is Anna." I say, getting up and offering my hand.

You scrabble around. As I got up I pulled the sheet down. You snatch it back up and give me the evil eye.

"I am Jim, and this is Hollie." he said offering me his hand. We shook and I shook Hollies hand too. I walked to the base of the cliff and found a couple of lumps of wood for them to sit on, heaving them one at a time back to the fire. I was conscious for the first time that my dick was making a slapping noise against my thigh as I walked.

By the time I get back, you have sat up. The sheet tightly wrapped around you and held under your arms. You have a beer open already. I smile. You are fast. Hopefully I am forgiven. I drop the logs for them to sit on, and sit on the sheet next to you. Carefully this time, making sure I don't pull the sheet down.

Jim and Hollie and island hopping across Greece. To save money they hitch-hike and free camp on the beaches even though they know it is illegal. My guess was good. They are from near Perth. Both teachers in the same school. Into surfing, kite-surfing, scuba diving. We have stuff in common. They tell us all about their travels across the country so far. Seems like fun. The beers go down easily. From time to time, as she is closest, Hollie reaches into my wood pile and chucks a stick or two on the fire. They are both very talkative.

Jim and I finished our beers. You and Hollie are still drinking. We crack open a second one each. You lean over, and whisper in my ear. "I need a pee baby."

I don't know if she heard, or perhaps it was just womens intuition, but Hollie stood up, grabbing Jim's hand she pulls him to his feet too. "Let's go find some more wood dear." she says. "This wont last much longer."

As they walk out of earshot, I whisper "I thought you went in the sea, about half an hour ago? Surely you can't need to go again already?"

"No baby." you say with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "I needed to, but I just had a good wash. I didn't pee because I was saving it for you."

I leaned over and kissed you deeply. Amazed that anyone would actually do that for me. I almost collapsed inside. Realizing that I had found someone who cared about me as deeply as I about them. It almost made me cry. The emotion of the moment overwhelming.

"We have very little time before they come back darling. Let's get into the sea quick."

"OK baby" you say.

We stand up. You shed the sheet. Both naked. We hold hands as we walk toward the sea. I notice you are kind of hobbling – knees together. Stooping forward a little. You must be really desperate. I can't help it my cock starts rising fast. I just hope Jim and Hollie are too far away to see.

You grab your crotch with your right hand. Holding. Pressing. Trying not to lose control. My cock is already hard and we are still only at the waters edge. The water feels warmer as the air is cooler. I can see you clearly in the bright moonlight. The look of desperation on your face. I am conflicted. Half felling sorry for your predicament, half being so excited I can hardly contain myself.

You hobble forward, using my hand for support. You squeeze it hard. Crushing my fingers. There is a look of total determination on your face. You are desperate to hold it until we get in deeper. Your knees locked together.

"Shit!" you whisper through gritted teeth.

I hear a short hiss. Maybe only a second long. Some pee runs through your fingers, some running down your legs, reflecting the moonlight. Some drips into the sea. Splashing quietly.

"Just sit down darling."

You pull on my hand, bending your knees, trying to sit in the shallow water. At about half a meter above the water you remove your right hand from your crotch to help you balance.

All of a sudden the flood gates open. The peace of the night, shattered by the loud hiss of your pee escaping, followed by the splashing noisily into the water. It didn't last long. You plop down onto the seabed. The water only just covering your pussy. Relief on your face. Still pissing.

I can't help myself. I let go of your hand and get on one knee next to you. I thrust my left hand between your legs – feeling the hot stream forcing its way out. Feeling your pussy lips flapping in the stream. You either are oblivious to what I am doing or completely don't care because of the relief of being able to pee. Ten seconds, twenty, thirty – you are still going. I put my finger right on your your urethra. Feeling the pressure of your stream pushing it away. Without even thinking my right hand is wrapped around my cock. Rubbing. Jerking.