Buried at the Beach: Never Too Much

He chuckled. "I did move some sand off you. Easier to breathe?"

"Yes. And I finally found the off button so I'm taking a moment to collect myself."

"You should. Take a moment, I mean."

"I hope you're not thinking of extracting me from our little bondage game?"

"Wouldn't dream of it. Not when you're having such a good time."

"So I am. So I am," she murmured in reminiscence. She flexed her neck now that she had the room. "I'll say it's still heavy."

"I believe you. Can you free yourself if needed?"

"Thigh cuffs," she said.

"Right, almost forgot. Unlucky you."

"Would we say unlucky? I wouldn't say unlucky."

"I suppose you wouldn't. I'm glad it was an experience."

"That's one word for it," she said, and she paused as she recollected. "You were friendly enough to declare my situation earlier. I'm still blindfolded. How do things lie, sir?"

"This is a sound question. Let me tell you. Not to alarm, but I'm still looking down at you in a hole, but rather than it being as narrow as your cheeks, you have some room to shake your head about."

"I do appreciate this."

"And in front of you I've made a sizable trench to ease the weight on your chest."

"Also thoughtful. For the moment."

"I was curious how you might take it all. Sand is heavy."

"Well, I'm very happy to have sated your curiosity."

The pair chatted for a while longer, she enjoying the post-ecstasy calm, and the pressure of her entombment added to this enjoyment. Eventually, given who they were and where they were and what they had imagined for the day, they returned to the topic at hand.

"Can I impress you with some foreplay?" he asked, and she heard him moving around her.

"How can I say no, really? What do you have in mind? Tickling my feet?"

"Funny," and she heard some mild exertion in his voice. "Things may feel a little weighty again soon."

"Indeed," she breathed, already noticing. And it wasn't long before she was back to taking long breaths, as if to push away the sand with her chest. She felt the closeness of it around her again, as if the sun had been blocked from view. "Not burying me completely, are you?" she said, gasping yet again.

"No, no. You seem to manage that yourself and you do it with impeccable timing."

"I assure you..." she began, catching her breath. "Unintentional."

"No doubt. Here comes our foreplay."

She immediately felt a stream of warm, dry sand on the back of her neck. It was actually quite pleasant as it trickled around her and she said as much.

"I thought you might like it. Sun warmed just for you."

"Always so accommodating, the sun. Mmm...that is nice." The stream wasn't steady but the warmth filled the space under her chin. Soon, she was covered to her ear lobes and even that felt pleasant. She felt the dissipating flow of it atop the back of her head, and as it swept around it finally did cover her ears, encircling her cheeks and caressing her bottom lip.

"And..." she said, blowing a bit of air to force the dry grains away, "My situation now, sir? Prithee..." and she had to wait a couple breaths to talk, "Do tell me."

"As you might imagine," and he paused long enough for her to hesitantly ask, "Yes?"

"You are again in a bit of a bowl...mmm...perhaps a vase really as the space around you isn't very wide. I have to look over the rim to actually see your pink lips."

"And what," she breathed, "are your intentions, good sir?"

"As stated, just a bit of foreplay."

And that river of dry sand started flowing around the sides of her face meeting at her lips. "I don't..." she began, but had to blow out to keep the sand away again. "I don't suppose, you could give me a minute to..." and again she forced the sand away. "...a minute to..." and then it was too late and she barely managed to mumble the word "brat", which came out more as "brph" before she no longer felt it practical to keep her lips apart.

Breathing just through her nose was a labor, she heard her breath go in, sniff, and out, snuff. When he asked her a question, it was all she could do to take several breaths and then make some non-committal sound. Everything came out as, "mm" with only two m's followed by another breath as even that effort was too much.

She heard him ask about her toy. "Mm", she replied, though she wasn't sure her body was ready for it again. But when she managed to put pressure on the button and the vibrations struck directly on her clitoris, the guttural sound that escaped her throat surprised even her.

"I gather you've found the on button," he quipped. She growled in her throat, an affirmative and gods this shouldn't feel this good, she thought. And when he said, "I'll continue with our foreplay then," her eyes flicked open beneath the blindfold and she gave a questioning grunt between her inhales.

"Sit back, relax. I believe you'll enjoy this." Again, the sensation of the dry sand covering her head, shifting and flowing downwards, covering her lips deeper. She felt the blindfold press against her skin as the sand piled against it.

But when the granules of sand bumped against the side of her nose, she reflexively tried to raise her chin and managed it somehow. Just enough so that she was able to say "You..." before things settled again and her mouth was covered once more. She gave a grunt of frustration which turned quickly into a squeal as she felt the sand come around and settle against her nostrils. She forcefully exhaled and she felt the grains blow outwards, then settle back, half covering her nose.

Each breath was a staccato effort to keep the sand from suffocating her. Slow steady inhale so as not to draw the sand in, a short quick exhale to push it away. The repetition of it set her mind back on her body and she shifted the vibrator just a smidge and it was a shock of lightning to her system. Her throat gave a short scream and when she somehow felt more sand pile against her nose she screamed in earnest. She tried to move again but there was no give this time -- her head was buried to the top less her eyes and nose.

Between the weight of the sand, her nose being half blocked, and the vibrator's handiwork, she wasn't getting enough air. Her breathing was panicked quick, near hyperventilation, her loins starting to pulse while she fought to keep herself above the sand.

The buildup was coming, her near asphyxiation heightening the coming orgasm. She grunted once, trying to tell him something but she was no longer certain of what. And as she squinted her eyes shut against the trembling of her body, somehow he was pouring more sand over her. She felt it rain down and she did what she could to voice something, her short shallow breaths punctuated with some vowel, a sound that rose higher each time she panted out in her fear, her expectation.

And then it was upon her, an initial wave that rode up from between her legs rolling upwards over and through her body, somehow striking her fully as her next quick inhale only took in sand and there wasn't enough air in her body to force it out. Her body trembled and if she'd been in bed she would be thrashing but, entombed as she was, her muscles just pushed unsuccessfully against the sand entrapping her. She wanted to scream but there was nothing left to scream with.

Somewhere amidst her mind exploding quaking, amidst the overwhelming need to just move, she knew she was literally underground, that he'd buried her in that warm dry sand not to her nose but deeply, enough she could feel the warm weight of it on her scalp. And still her body throbbed, not nearly done and in that miracle of "horrendous orgasm" when your body not only doesn't need air, it doesn't desire it, her mouth opened in a silent scream and she instinctually forced the vibrator even harder against her clitoris.

And her body and mind exploded as they never had before, shivering violently under the sand, her limbs no longer under her control, jellied extensions on her shoulders and hips. For long moments this went on, her frozen, silently screaming orgasm until tears dampened her blindfold and the sand packing her mouth was wet with drool. Her body slowly came down, nerves twitching, muscles jumping. Even had she not been deeply buried at the beach with no air in her lungs left, she would have lost consciousness. And so she did.

-------------------------

"Welcome back?" she heard, seemingly from a distance. It took her a moment to realize he was speaking. It took another moment to realize her eyes were still closed and another that her blindfold was gone. And, rather unexpectedly, she felt sand all around her face, even against her mouth.

She pried her eyes open, expecting glaring sunlight. But it was dusk somehow and more than that, aside from a purplish sky above her, she was surrounded by piles of sand. All the views she'd been missing from when she was blindfolded.

So why was she still buried? And why so deep still? She was at the bottom of a hole and the mounds of sand seemed threateningly tall. If they shifted, they'd certainly cover her.

"Let me try again," she heard him say, and saw him this time, his face peering down at her. "How are you feeling?"

She moved her eyes, as that was all she could move, making it obvious she was scanning her surroundings and finding them all a bit curious, if not dubious. She cocked an eyebrow in question.

"Ah, finally back. May I free you to speak?"

She somehow managed to give him a look that said, This seems an obvious course of action.

And he did so, carefully giving her just enough room to move her lips. But not much more than that.

"Hello," she said, a slight smile on her face. "I will say," and she took a breath because now that she was awake, she was reminded of how heavy sand was, "that I didn't expect to wake and find myself buried in the sand."

"Yes."

"Deep enough I'm having a hard time breathing."

"About that."

"In the evening."

He frowned. "Quite. I should explain."

"Wait," she said, and her face took on a look of surprised remembrance, sandy lips and all. "Oh dear. I did that thing again."

"Oh dear, you did indeed. Do you recall? It was fascinating."

"Like the last time?"

"Very much so, though you weren't wrapped in plastic this time. Just buried in the sand."

She looked around again. "Would you call this 'just'?"

"I suppose not." He paused. "When I uncovered you..."

"I don't remember that part."

"You were asleep."

"Don't you mean unconscious? Because I'm now remembering the part before that. Foreplay, I believe you called it. You buried me over my head."

"No such thing. You managed that all by yourself."

"I don't think that would hold up in a court of law. I couldn't move, never mind bury myself."

He cocked an eyebrow of his own. "I need to make a video of you in your throes sometime and show it to you. Even buried to the tip of your nose..."

"That was you."

"That was me. Even with your wrists bound firmly to your thighs."

"Also you."

"I'd like to state for the jury it was a joint effort."

She thought for a moment. "Accepted."

"Even with those things, you still caused chaos. Three times, if you recall."

"I really only recall the first two. Burying myself. Accidentally I might add." And the sideways look she gave him said that might not be entirely the truth. "I only remember being underground the third time." She narrowed her eyes at him. " What happened then?"

"You happened. A play by play, if you will indulge me." She nodded assent. "In my cleverness, I sensed your oncoming...coming..."

"Indeed."

"...and I made to give you one last sensation, one more trickle of sand to give you that feeling of...concern..."

"Panic?"

"...anxiety..."

"A good compromise."

"...and I think I underestimated..."

"What a 'trickle' was?"

"You. Something you did under all that sand affected all the other sand that was around you."

She pondered, and quickly realized the truth. "Ah. Yes, it was something. It was...everything."

"Just so. I won't say you caused a small earthquake but you must have been trembling hard enough to..."

"I'm sure I was," she interjected. "As I said, it was something."

He smiled, genuinely. "You are amazing, dear. Long story short, with you at the bottom of your vase, I believe I called it, with foot high piles of sand all resting a foot over your head..."

"With my head already covered with your foreplay right to the tip of my nose, as you say..."

"Well, everything collapsed on top of you. It took me a full minute before I realized I was off in my digging by 6 inches."

"Nothing left of me then."

"Not a trace. If I said I was a little frantic, that may be an understatement. You were...underground as you said...for a while. I ended up digging a tunnel sideways to your nose just to clear it. I felt you breathing with my fingers so I cleared your mouth...which was..."

"Full of sand. I recall that. Apologies, couldn't be helped."

"Mmm. You're something, all right. I managed to sort that, with your help."

"I was awake?"

"Very. Well, you were...coherent...I should say. Answered my questions easily enough. You seemed fine though I suspected you were in a state. You wanted to stay buried, even with a foot of sand on your head."

"This is what happened when I was wrapped, you said. After I'd lost consciousness, when I woke up, I didn't want you to let me out. I even wanted you to leave me with just a straw to breathe through."

"Very similar. I was able to compromise with you this time. I removed the sand from your head -- a tenuous process -- but you insisted on repeating the foreplay, putting you right back in your current position. Once your mouth was covered, your breathing somehow slowed, despite the sand, and you fell back asleep. A few hours later, and here we are."

"Ah, sorry to have startled you."

"Not your fault. Clearly it was an adventure."

"Yes, it was." Her eyes lost focus for a bit. When she was back, she bit her lip and looked at him shyly. "It's not that late..."

"One moment." And he disappeared from her side, somewhere behind the piles of encroaching sand. It wasn't long before she felt pressure on her body again.

"I thought something was different," she said, her chest heaving a bit now. She heard him from somewhere in front of her, still out of view.

"I removed quite a bit of the sand from you when you were sleeping."

"Feels...mmph...like you're," she forced a breath into her lungs, "returning it...from whe...". It was more difficult to breathe than earlier, she was certain. She tried to complete her sentence but it was a challenge. "From whence...", breathe in, breathe out, "it...came. Oof."

"I am. And perhaps a bit more. Upping the ante, as it were." She heard his efforts though he went unseen behind the pile of sand in front of her. "How are you doing?" he asked after a bit. "Keeping up?" He had returned and there was indeed a knowing grin on his face.

"Fi...", she started, but then had to wait for enough air. It felt like he'd moved half the beach onto her. "Fine."

"You sound.... What's the word?"

She replied, a hoarse whisper. "Crushed?" And gave a weak smile.

"Such a trooper. Shall we continue?"

She was silent, building up her words. Short, shallow breaths, the sand feeling like it was pressing down harder and harder against her chest with every exhale. Finally, she managed, "Oh."

"Oh?" he asked. "Like the vowel or...?"

"Okay," the word coming out in a single breath. "Go," she said, because, "Please carry on with your nefarious plans" would have been hours.

And it was only a moment before she felt it on the back of her neck. She squeaked at the sensation. The sand, as before, was warm, dry, she could feel it caress her skin, sliding from behind her to come to rest under her chin.

"I think you'll like this. There's a bit less buildup." The flow of sand became even with her jawline and she tried to raise her head without success. Too much sand already behind her. Somehow the stream of sand continued unabated, the grains slowly rising up her face..

"Bucket?" she asked, trying to solve the mystery. It was already covering her cheeks and she felt it near her lower lip.

"Clever girl."

She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, again coming in short, quick gasps. When it reached a depth where it threatened to fall into her mouth, she pursed her lips to keep them above. "Wait," she tried to say, but it came out more like, "Weh" as she timed it with her brief exhale. The sand crept over her bottom lip anyway and she used more than a few of her gasping efforts to blow the grains away. Finally, exhaustingly, the sand seemed to have stopped in its course.

"Sorry," he said. "You caught me mid-bucket. You were saying?"

He waited for her to get enough air. At this point, he could tell it was all she could do to keep the sand from slipping into her mouth. He watched as she made an effort to blow the sand from her lip. Once, twice. She rolled her eyes in surrender. Choosing her word (as words weren't an option at this point), she went with a P word so she could keep her lips mostly pursed.

"Plah?" Which was meant to be "plan" but her shallow breaths didn't allow her time to finish the word. She imagined she sounded like a fish out of water, gasping on the seashore.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. She panted, looking up at him. Then both his eyebrows raised in unison. "Ah. Plan. I was going to keep it as a surprise..."

She rolled her eyes at him and continued to struggle to breathe.

"But since you insist. I'm going to bury you...", he paused.

She gathered herself to speak but could only manage, "Wha?" because the t's just weren't making it out in time. He did seem to gather the entire message: "I don't follow you because I do seem to be very well buried. Perhaps too well buried. Can you explain more clearly?"

And he pointed to the bridge of her nose, touching her just about where her eyes were. "...to here."

And those eyes, rather than widening in shock, merely narrowed in suspicion. She started to say something three times, never quite able to catch her breath long enough. "Th..." Pause to gasp several times in a row. "Tih..." Then finally, "Tih..." again before she gave it her best effort, drawing in as much air as she could, and forcing out a "Canbree" before going back to her pursed lip panting. She closed her eyes briefly from the effort, then looked up at him, awaiting, with enforced patience, for his response.

"Can't. Breathe. Is that what you said?" And he was being playful with her, even now.

"Yeh."

"Well," and he disappeared from her view. "Let's take it slow then, shall we?"

And amazingly she felt that warm sand on the back of her head, sliding now, over her ears to fall towards her pursed lips.

"Weh," she tried to say. "Eh..." The grains were a trickle but steady and she inhaled through her nose and breathed out through her mouth, fighting their encroachment. All while trying to tell him this was all a bit much for her at the moment. Any sounds she tried to make were only "Phhh" as she tried in vain to keep the sand from her mouth. Finally, all she could do was give one push with her tongue, forcing some sand out, before tightening her lips for good.

Trying to get enough air through just her nose was going to have an inevitable outcome. Her ears now plugged, her intake and outtake of air was all she could hear. She could feel, however. And the dry grains of sand continued to pass by her peripheral vision, caressing her cheeks. "Mm," she tried, vowels no longer an option. The sand kept flowing until she felt it on the sides of her nostrils, and could see the grains dance from her staccato breaths.

"Mmm," she exclaimed, with a full three m's, making a noise loud enough to start her hyperventilating, almost, directly after with her efforts.