The sky is golden in the west, the sun sinking toward the eager embrace of the ocean. The yacht drifts upon the open sea, the wind stirring just enough to billow the clean white sheet of the sail. The movement of the waves feels like dancing, the rhythm as familiar now as the beat of your heart.
There was conversation, long ago in the heat of the afternoon, but as the day succumbed to the promise of the night, words seemed insufficient, replaced with murmurs of pleasure and appreciation. The hours of sunlight have been hours of anticipation, and now, your every sense attuned to the sensuality of the ship on the open sea and your sexy companions, all you can think of is the want within you.
She is kneeling now between your parted thighs, impish grin and sparkling eyes and full, sun-kissed tits. She has taken her time anointing you with oil, her lips tracing the curve of your thighs, the hollow of your navel, the tight buds peaking your silken breasts.
He kneels beside you, naked and strong, and holds a glass of champagne to your lips. It tastes like sunlight and memory and promise - but the taste is fleeting, evaporating on your tongue as he moves the glass lower, anointing your nipples with a single drop which glows and fizzes.
Her breath is sweet on your cunt, her mouth so close that you can feel the soft warmth of her lips, but he is demanding your attention. You know what is coming, and the world is breathless in anticipation - and then, a trickle of effervescent gold spills upon your swollen clit and between the glistening petals of your sex. She suckles eagerly, the cold of the champagne and the sweet, spiced heat of your arousal mingling on her tongue. She's eager now, all modesty and restraint cast aside, hungry for the taste of you, champagne bubbles sparkling into scent on your skin.