Stroll along the beach

“What don't I want to do with you?" I muttered, my words a dark whisper against the backdrop of the moonlit beach.

Courtney, a seductive smile playing on her lips, seized my hand, leading us through the sand, her linen jumper a provocative invitation to a clandestine dance. The front, a teasing revelation of tanned cleavage, hinted at hidden desires. As she moved, her tits swayed, a tantalizing rhythm beneath the linen veil.

"I was just wondering," I remarked, "how easy it will be to take off of you." My hand slipped beneath the romper, fingers encountering the surprising firmness of her ass, a secret unveiled.

A giggle, a musical note in the night, escaped her lips as she twirled, momentarily breaking the spell. At a poolside bar, the liquid courage of a shot preceded our journey along the deserted beach. The sand dunes stretched, witnesses to the unfolding narrative of the night.

Courtney, liberated from her sandals, treaded the water's edge, expressing happiness in my company. "Why is that?" I inquired, words a murmur against the rhythmic lapping of the waves.

She confessed, a siren's admission, that I was the hottest among Zach’s friends. Her hand, a slow ascent from arm to neck, orchestrated a descent into a kiss that tasted of forbidden allure. The scent of her, an intoxicating blend, momentarily eclipsed the awareness of my own ****-laden breath. She led, a puppeteer of desire, towards a palm tree—a flimsy shelter for our indiscretions.

Against the tree's rough bark, the dance intensified. My hand delved into the romper's secrets, a bare tit yielding to exploration. We surrendered to the night's symphony, making out on the sandy canvas, where pants were discarded, and bare flesh met the gritty embrace of the shore. The night, a co-conspirator in our shadows, held its breath as the story unfolded in the hushed whispers of the ocean breeze.

Courtney grabbed my flaccid dick, humming in approval. I pull her tangled hair back to observe her soft lips wrap around my head. Slurps join the chorus of waves crashing onto the beach. Hard sucking, her pretty face full of determination, she stretched out the length of my cock until Pop! Then she closed her mouth over the head and repeated. I bent over her and squeezed her ass cheeks, failing to pull her the romper off, so I settled for rubbing her pussy through her clothes. The heat of it informed me of her equal desire of me. I rubbed, and she hummed with approval.

I praised her for her diligent work in getting me hard despite the ****. She had such a pretty face, angelic with her lips locked around my shaft, her tongue a licking out trying to tease my dangling balls. She glazed up at me, the moon reflecting on her brown eyes. Fuck. She knew how sexy she looked sucking cock, never breaking eye contact as she gagged on me.

She came up to kiss me—the saltiness on her tongue from my cum or the sand, I didn’t know—as she stroked my cock. She wanted me to fuck her raw. On the beach. Under the stars. Carnal desire blocked any thoughts that this was my friend’s wife, and that I was married. I needed to be in this woman.

I yanked her sleeves off her shoulders, pulling down her top, exposing her tan perky tits—such a contrast to my own wife’s large pale saggy tits—to the cool ocean breeze. My mouth devoured her nipples, while she pulled the romper fully off her body to reveal her secret that she was bare underneath the linen. A perfectly geometric rectangle of brown pubic hair pointed the way to her slit that had my dick throbbing in anticipation.

I pushed her onto her back, sand scattering at her impact. I placed one hand between her legs and fingered her pussy, her wet warmness encompassed my mind. Courtney slapped me, her hand leaving an abrasion of sand on my face. Stop messing around and give her my big dick.

Awake from my dream I guided myself into her. My knees buried into the sand, and her legs wrapped around me. She wanted all of me. She wanted all of it. My big dick. And I gave it to her. My fingers gripped into the sand as I tried to find traction to pound into her harder.

Then she flipped me over onto my back and rode me. A tan brunette godless in the moonlight. Her perky tits bounce with each movement of her agile hips.

Then she stopped. She started yelling out into the night. A voyeurous couple on a moonlight stroll decided to stop and observe two people have sex on the beach. How much of a show did they get before they were so rudely interrupted by one of the performers? They moved on with a story to tell their friends when they got back from vacation.

I looked back at Courtney, praying that the moment wasn’t ruined, that we could still continue our sandy lovemaking. She told me to forget it and to rub her clit. She was close.

Lubricated circles on her sensitive nub sent her to the finish line. She doubled over in laughter as she came. Her tight stomach tensed with each movement. When her orgasmic laughter finally died, she told me to use her until I came.

I treated her like a bitch. I made her get down on all fours, and penetrated her from behind, her tightness squeezing me. Both of us faced the crashing waves, as I thrusted in and out of her. I smacked and squeezed her tan ass as I pumped in and out of her pussy. Wanting to come but not able to. My hand pressed the back of her head and **** her face to the sand. She lifted her ass higher. I was in control. I was dominating my friend’s life. Fucking her like the whore she was. I kept thrusting until I was about to burst, then I pulled out, splaterring my white cum over her tan skin.

She sat up and white sand covered half her body like she was ready for her Sports Illustrated photo shoot . She stood up and ran toward the water, her shadow racing down the beach. I followed her and we both splashed into the waves, washing off the filth of our adultery.

Wrapped in the aftermath, we strolled toward our discarded garments, her presence clinging to me like a lingering secret. The clothes, now uncomfortably adhering to our still-damp forms, whispered of a night not fully contemplated. Consequences danced in the shadows, but in that moment, we reveled in the hedonistic echoes of our impulsive fun.

Putting on our garments, a ritual tainted by the residue of saltwater and sand, we forged ahead. As we treaded the path back to the villa, a bittersweet longing gnawed at the edges of desire. More time together, a whispered wish, but reality intruded like a distant alarm.

Yet, as the villa's silhouette loomed, a reminder surfaced – a date with the enigmatic Katy, a short blonde tempest waiting in the wings of the next night's narrative. The present's transient pleasures clashed with the impending rendezvous, a tension weaving through the fabric of the night, leaving us suspended in the delicate dance between now and what awaits on the horizon.