The Beach

[Ar****]

He had glimpsed her in the day. All around him, humans splashed in the waves, their hot bl@@d pumping, screeching like birds in delight at their view; but not him. Never him. He had come at his own accord, not for cocktails and sunning, but for her. The myth. The impossible woman.

His tweed stuck to his skin as he scaled the hills in the dusk. Sweat covered his forehead, pushed his glasses down his nose. His dress shoes were caked in dusty sand and hope.

The caves were mired in shadows, dangerous even, but he had a torch, and he would go farther. He had a bag prepared. His shoes clacked on the sudden switch to stone as he plumed the depths with care…

And there she was.

Illuminated by a fire of cinnamon, of mallow-sweet, her golden hair was tied with seaweed and bits of red wool. Her mane reached her waist in perfect, wild curls, damp at the tips from a recent bath. Her skin was pale as moonlight, her eyes full as dusk. Her limbs were shapely, her breasts full, her mouth a little rosebud. Freckles sang on her brow, and in a moment, the climb—both literal and figurative—was worth it to him.

Words didn’t matter. Castles and banquets, gold and bouquets; no offering was sufficient, and yet he would have given all. He approached, and she studied him, those timeless eyes glinting. The noisy beaches lay forgotten as their soft lips met. A little whimper escaped her at his daring, but she didn’t pull away. Her chest heaved with desire as he removed his jacket, rough beneath her hands; as she buttoned his sandy shirt. She bit his neck like an *** and he groaned; for she was desire made real, and the trumpet had sounded.

He pulled at her nipples and she gasped as one hand crept between her legs, rubbing her sensitive clit. As she threw her head back, he got to his knees, pulling her core to his mouth; his hand entering her with two fingers. He fucked her until her knees trembled, then helped her lay back. The firelight danced over their nakedness, their stark gaze shining.

He pinned her wrists as he entered her, and she gave a cry, thrusting onto him wildly. They were both wound up, both ready, and they finished together. He reached into his bag and bound those limbs with rope, helping that rosebud mouth onto his emptied penis. She sucked him hard again with abandon as he praised her.

She did not try to run.

She was in for a long night.

And both of them, he realized, knew it…

[fa****]

Lets grab a drink