Cant Stand The Rain

I hate the rain, and since it is spring, it seems that all the sky has decided to do is rain. And Rain. And Rain. Screw that. That's what an imagination is for. I want to be somewhere very warm, warm enough to make my thighs glisten. So, that's where I am right now.

The sun beats down on my bare breasts, the heat making them slightly pink. They look like someone may have slapped them just a little, just until warm. My nipples are tightened by the sand drying upon them, all crinkled and brown. The sand in between my toes is so soft, I can't resist clenching them and stretching each one out from my body. My long auburn hair is spread out in a fan over the brightly colored beach towel. One of my arms is flung up over my eyes to block the sun. There is a fine sheen of sweat over every inch of my body. My other arm is lying gently across my hip, leaving my fingertips to gently stroke the straight, dark hair of my pubis. I can feel my juices beginning to seep out on to my towel, mixing with the seawater from my most recent swim. The heat of the sun warms my thighs, and my stomach.

I lie here, awaiting my drinks. He has gone to fetch them. He is the magnificent man that I have brought here with me. He could be my Sir. He could be my husband. He could be you. He is gorgeous. It doesn't really matter what he looks like to the world, to me he has the most beautiful body that ever existed, simply because for some portion of the day, it is mine do with as I wish. He looks different to each person who sees him. To me, he has thick dark hair. His eyes are clear, and smooth as the water. His back slopes in lines and ridges, concave and convex, all the way to his biteable ass. His strong legs stand proudly, each downed with dark, crisp hair. His chest is smooth, or not, depending on my view and tricks of the light. His small nipples are hard like mine, most likely because of the same reason as mine. My mouth dries every time I see his smile, cupid lips drawn up into a devil's grin. His full lips make me crave their touch, make me want to beg him for just one more kiss.

He has returned at last with our drinks. He kneels down on the towel next to me, and slowly drips frozen daiquiri along my body, from in between my now heaving breasts, all the way down to my pussy. The chill of the drink raises goosebumps all over my arms and legs, and my body shivers in delicious delight. His lips touch my body nearly at the dip in my throat. I moan, unable to disguise the exquisite pleasure he elicits from me. His mouth uses my body as his chalice, licking down in a lazy path. My back arches off the towel, giving him even better access to the thick, sweet liquor. Now the drink has melted and is running down the sides of my body, leaving red streaks all over me. His tongue gets distracted and begins tracing these newly laid trails. Each stroke of his mouth has me begging for more.

Finally he returns to the core of my body, to the very flame that is burning between my thighs. I throw my arms out to the side, and try to get a hold on something substantial. I feel nearly weightless, all I feel is his lips on my body, everything else has fallen away. My hands find no purchase in the hot grains, but I try and try again to regain my stability. At last his tongue flicks across my clit, snapping me back to reality. All senses are now tuned in that tiny pearl. His fingers stroke my thighs, urging them open. They fall to each side, helpless under his spell. His mouth takes in every inch of me. He drinks my nectar as a man dying of thirst, and only I can bring him back to life. His light beard rubs against my clit as his tongue thrusts deep with in me, my muscles trying to find something, anything, to clench around.

At last, he slides a daiquiri slicked finger in me, and strokes deep. Now two, then three, now four. I am pouring over his fingers now, helpless to any semblance of control. His tongue returns to my clit, flick now, poking with the tip then. I have no idea how much longer I can stand this sweet assault. His mouth leaves me, and his fingers withdraw from within.

No! I whimper.

Please, I beg.

He moves in to a different position, now braced between my aching thighs. He takes his throbbing cock in one hand and guides himself to my pouting opening. I can tell he is trying to be slow, and seductive, but my body has past that point. I arch my back and fling my hips to meet his. His cock dives deep, slamming in to me with such force, I am pushed back in to the sand. I wrap my long legs around his waist, and try to draw him even deeper. He shifts higher up, getting the angle just right, so that he rubs my clit with each thrust. I wrap my arms around him, and bring his sticky lips to mine. I draw his tongue in to my mouth, tasting the drink, tasting my body, the sun, my wetness. I suck greedily on him, his mouth a playground for my tongue.

I try to forget that this may be the last time we ever see each other. I try to forget that there will come a day very soon, when this exquisite pleasure will come to an end.

His thrusts slow down, savoring each stroke. He leans forward again and takes one nipple in his mouth. He laves it to attention, and then nibbles on the tip. I shout out some incomprehensible cry, unable to even form words, the pleasure my body is going through is so intense. He draws the nipple deep in his mouth, pressing it against the roof of his mouth, rolling side to side with his teeth. I can feel how close I am getting. My pussy begins the slow spasm around his thick cock. I burrow my head against his shoulder so he cannot see the tears forming in my eyes. The depth of my orgasm has my entire body in shock. He speeds up his stroke only briefly, coming against my body with a fervor. I feel him pulse within me, I can nearly feel his come filling me full to the brim. Tears drip down my face on to my neck, where his lips have some to rest. He rests his body on mine as we both come down. He licks his lips and tastes the salt of my tears. All I can hope is that he thinks it is from the ocean. He nuzzles my neck, dropping kisses randomly, gems of moisture on my heated skin. I think to myself, I got away with it. He never knew. Then he turns his mouth to my ear.

"I know."

Damn. Then I move to kiss his cheek, and there I find salty trails of his own. Even in the sun soaked sands, it seems that we can never escape the rain. I wish I could.