Follow you to the beach

You roll away with a giggle as Tristan lowers his head towards you to continue the kiss. You flash a mischievous smile to his bemused expression. His head follows your softly bouncing breasts as you saunter around the bed.

"My eyes are up here," you remind him in a teasing tone.

"I'm well aware," he replies, not once looking away from his original targets. In response, you turn away quickly and giggle again.

"You're lovely to look at from any angle; turning away is hardly a turn off," he continues. You look over your shoulder to see him gently stroking himself.

"Oh now look at you. Didn't I tell you I was going to take care of that?" you note in mock frustration. "Fine! I'll walk away, and then - oh!" You're interrupted by Tristan quickly getting off the bed and moving towards you. You yelp with delight as you run for the opening to the porch. Down the steps, straight to the beach, and only after a few more paces into the seawater do you look back. Hands on your shoulders before you can completely turn around, and you're both falling down. After resurfacing, gasping and laughing, he continues the conversation.

"You ran away!" he exclaims while settling onto his knees in the gentle surf.

"I had to! Otherwise you were going to jerk off on the bed. How pathetic!" you confirm while settling down yourself.

"You have another plan, Cristina?"

"Yes! I want to," you're interrupted by one of his hands clamping over your mouth as he spins you around. He holds you close and leans his head to your ear.

"Actually, we're going to do what I want," he breathes. His other arm is tightly wrapped around your waist. You can't help but feel his cock getting stiffer behind you as he pulls you against him. A small sigh, slightly audible (and entirely uncontrollable) escapes your nose. He presses against you more. "Move towards the beach," he instructs. Keeping the same position, the two of you shimmy on your knees towards the gently crashing waves. In the few moments it takes you to get there, you note how your shared bungalow sits a few paces away from the shoreline, hugged by the dancing, wind-swept foliage behind. It looks comfortable in the jungle's familiar embrace. That comfort is mirrored in you, nude in your lover's arms, together in this warm breeze and water.

"First, you're going to be spanked for running away from me," he announces as you reach the shore. A certain lusty heat begins to stir in you. Although this isn't what you intended, you have no interest in objecting. Besides, I really was- "Such a naughty girl for running away from me like that," Tristan continues, finishing your thought. He releases his grip on you, and sits down on his knees, facing the sea.

"Come here and lay across my lap so you can be spanked," he orders.

"Yes...daddy," you reply softly with your head hanging in fabricated shame. A sigh of approval escapes him as you position yourself across his lap, careful not to impale your stomach on his erection. The sight and feel of it against your skin add to the heat building in you. You feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

SMACK! Tristan's hand meets one of your cheeks. The familiar mix of pain and pleasure sweep across you. Another SMACK fully immerses you while a quiet cry escapes your lips.

"You know, Cristina, seeing as you're readily calling me 'daddy', I think you want this punishment. Hm? Does that sound right?" You try to process his words as the twin heats from your sex and cheeks command your attention.

"You're right, da-daddy," you stammer, "I've been a bad girl, and I know it. It's only right that I get spanked for what I've done," you reply sheepishly, looking down at the sand below.

"Ah, so there it is. Well then! I had intended on spanking you quite a bit, but I think four will be enough of a start, and then I'll move on to something else for my impish little girl, hm?" Before you have a chance to reply, each of your cheeks receives another hard SMACK. What could the next part of the punishment be?

Without leaving your cheek, you feel his hand slide down between your legs. You gasp as his fingers slide across your labia.

"I knew you were enjoying things, but I had no idea you were enjoying yourself this much. That's good. It'll make the next part of your punishment easier to bear..." he trails off as his middle and ring fingers line up with your vagina. With little resistance, he's knuckle deep instantly. You gasp, more in surprise than pain. Being so aroused, you feel you could've taken at least a third finger before being near your limit. He leans his head down as close to your ear as he can manage in this position. "Well," he growls, "Is my baby girl ready for her lesson?"

A little shaken from how hot the situation is, you weakly nod.

He said nothing else. Without warning, Tristan's hand jackhammered your vagina. In and out, with a speed that only a sex toy could achieve, or a piece of industrial machinery, or something mechanical, but certainly not something a hand could do. Relentlessly, his fingers cycled between being completely submerged in, and entirely free of, you. A sucking, clapping noise replaces the gentle waves' crashes as the rest of his hand meets your undercarriage with each penetration. Moans, groans, gasps, squeals, and "oh my god"s that sounded much more like "ouhuh"s escape you: these are your contributions to the chorus. You can hardly concentrate as the barrage on your vagina continues. You're dimly aware that Tristan's other arm has wrapped around your waist, holding your lower half in place even more. His power over you, the dynamic of the roleplay, the physical lock he has on you, the delightful and frightening speed with which he pleases you...all these things synergize to drag an orgasm from you. Where was the warning? Where was the build up? You scream into the night. Your newly tensed body, along with the sudden scream, have made your state very clear to Tristan. How couldn't it? But there was no sign of stopping. The rhythm, if anything, only increased. The familiar ticklish feeling of immediate post-orgasm stimulation comes over you. You push against the sand to move away, but Tristan's weight pressing down on your back holds you still. You squirm. You writhe with pleasure and pain. You push against his legs. You try to roll to the side. You grasp the sand in a feeble attempt to pull yourself away from the vice-trap of sexual overdose. All the while, the hammering continues. Apathetic toward your struggle, his fingers push you far over the edge you were so happy to walk towards. Your nearly blank mind only processes the overstimulation and pain. There's no room for coming up with an exit strategy. His fingers only continue their work. After a few more seconds in this state, you can't fight any more. You simply go limp, and feel as if you're going to cry.

With that final surrender, he stops. The grip loosens, his hand pulls out, and there's no intention of continuing the cycle. He he looks down at you.

"Has my little Cristina learned her lesson yet?" he asks with a neutral tone, continuing the roleplay. You suspect it's masking a hint of real concern. You can only breathe shakily as you recover, lying across his lap. His question hangs in the air. An answer is required, though not immediately. A hand, the same hand that caused so much turmoil, part of you realizes, gently strokes your back. You feel him spell your name out. You feel him draw circles, and spirals, and other unknowable shapes. A kiss on the back of your head prompts you to respond.

"I'm okay. I mean, yes daddy, I've learned my lesson."

"You'll be a good girl now?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, wiping at your eyes.

Before he can move away, you bring your mouth over the head of his cock. The scenario was a turn-on for him, too. You take him into your mouth, savoring the feel, if not so much the taste, of his precum. You swallow it, and start to kiss the tip with affection. You bob up and down, wondering if Tristan is going to grab your head to fuck your throat, like you enjoy. After a session like that, maybe being gentle for the moment feels right for him, too. Before long, you feel the tension build in him. You consider letting him finish in your mouth, but decide to be mischievous once again. You quickly pull your head away just before the cum erupts from his penis. His moans of pleasure and disappointment fill the air. You watch as the first few ropes of cum fly up and towards the sea. A few more throbs of his cock push the last of the viscous liquid out. It slowly slides down his shaft, pooling atop his balls.

After he opens his eyes again, you look at each other. Appreciative smiles break across both your faces, and you embrace.

"You're OK? Really? I hope I didn't take it too far this time," he asks cautiously.

"Oh no! It was fun! But I don't think I can do that again tonight," you reply with a soft laugh.

"No, not again tonight, I agree," he confirms.

"You know I like these roleplays, Tristan. You have to push boundaries when we do this stuff. Otherwise, what's the point? Where's the fun? The discovery?"

"Alright, thanks for reminding me," he concluded with a kiss on your cheek.

After a quick rinse in the sea you both walk back and towel off. You begin to feel like you could have some more of Tristan if he were up for it. After getting back in bed, you look at him. His face right above yours. You share a kiss, glad to see that he's on the same page.