On The Beach 22

You must imagine yourself on a beach, a beach enclosed in a cove on three sides by towering walls of rock. Huge blooms explode from wild shrubs that grow on the slopes. There must be a path up to the top, or else how did you get here? Perhaps you arrived by boat. You could be anywhere in the world - anywhere that's scorching hot and, apparently, not too popular. The beach is mysteriously deserted. Perhaps it's a private beach. It doesn't matter. The important thing is that you are utterly alone. Nobody can see you.

And as there's no one around, you have removed your bikini – on the face of it, to get rid of your tan lines, but also to give your body a sense of liberation. This is your holiday. Without a backward glance, you have allowed the rest of your life to slip quietly from your mind. Nothing else matters but the immediate present, and your immediate surroundings.

Lying flat out on your front, on a huge white downy towel, you can feel the lick of a mellow breeze from the sea blowing across your body, touching parts that never normally feel the elements. You are drowsy in the heat, and maybe a little woozy from a glass of white wine at lunch. You are feeling faintly horny too, but not excessively so. That wind grazing your bare ass - it kind of turns you on, in a gentle, take-it-or-leave-it way. And anyway, you are feeling way too chilled out to touch yourself.

Your legs are slightly parted, but not too much. In case someone does comes along, you don't want just anyone seeing what you're hiding between them. Although in the privacy of your slumber you are dead certain that no one will come. Almost absent-mindedly you note a trickle of sweat dripping down the crack between your legs.

This is the life. This really is the way life should be lived. Always.

Through half-open eyes you see two sandalled feet tramping across the sugary glaze of the sand. You hear them more than see them, because you really aren't all that awake. But through a half-open eye you do notice the silver glint of an ankle chain as it catches the sun. And dark pink nail polish on slender toes.

The two feet are heading towards you.

Apparently they don't belong to a man. You suppress an urge to look pull the towel over your ass. If it's a woman...

The feet pass out of view, behind you. Someone must be heading for the sea, you think. But then the sound of sandals crunching in the sand comes to a halt. That's odd, you think. The heat, and your state of extreme relaxation, have reduced your heartbeat to a reluctant trudge, but you are interested to notice it accelerate into the merest skip. Yes, you are definitely curious, but you're still too sleepy to look up. You close your eyes and slip back into some kind of semi-sexy dream.

And then something happens. Something that you really weren't expecting. You can't quite tell if it's in your dream, or happening for real. A drop of liquid lands on the tanned left cheek of your ass. Slowly the drizzle drifts across to your right cheek. To start with it feels slightly cold, but the sun soon warms it as it begins to slide and slither down towards the crack in the middle of your ass.

Then a touch. Soft delicate. A hand. It wipes the oil over one side of your ass. Then another hand lands on the other side and rubs the oil over you. At one point you feel the scratch of a set of long nails as the person behind you grates the tips of their (her?) fingers from the back of your knees, all the way up your slightly parted legs over your oily rump and stops in the small of your back. It happens again. You shift your legs almost without moving. The slight parting is now very slightly wider.

It occurs to you that this is just what you wanted. Someone to touch you. The hands start to rub and knead and mould the flesh of your butt. You're getting a massage on the beach, just what you were preying for in your sleep, and it's free. The hands seem to know exactly what to do. Your ass was already warm, despite the breeze from the sea, but now the friction is heating it up, and the heat is transferring from one part of your body to another.

You lie there, and you let it happen to you without moving a single muscle. Why should you? you're on holiday after all.

The hands start to get a little stronger. And a little closer to the middle as they play with your girl flesh. But then they stop. You think it's all over. You knew it was too good to last. Damn.

Suddenly a faint surprising drizzle lands right in the crack. With agonising slowness it works its way down into the sweat between your cheeks until - bang - you feel it run over the rim of your puckered little asshole. The sensation ratchets up the tension in your body.

You can feel yourself involuntarily pulling your legs slightly more apart. Just in case something really good happens next.

The oil resumes its journey south until - lo and behold - it trickles to the edge of your ... But you try not to think about that. To prolong this delicious slow-burning agony.

Without even realising it you raise your hips maybe a few centimetres off the ground as if your butt is begging and begging. But begging for what? what can possibly come next?

It's the gentle feminine hands that come next. They pull apart the cheeks of your ass until you feel fingers and thumb of one hand holding them open. Suddenly a part of your body that never sees the sun is pointing at the heavens. You can feel the baking rays heating the oil. Wow.

You are really starting to enjoy this new and thrilling sensation when something definite happens. There's no imagining this, no dreaming it. A finger is teasing your asshole. You've been vaguely wanting to do this yourself but were too lazy to move.

And now the finger, in a sudden move, works its past the resistance of your opening and you feel your muscles relax. In it comes. A finger. Sliding easily in on a river of hot oil. You are being penetrated by someone - it must be a woman - you've never seen. You can feel her finger probing around inside you, tickling the walls of your insides. And it's driving you fucking wild.

You lift your ass properly this time, begging her by your movement to push her finger in further. But what does she do? she pulls it out. The sensation as the finger leaves your ass is overpowering, but then she's back, this time with two fingers. It's tighter, but you like it as she starts to push in and out in a rhythmic motion.

This is better than any ass action you've ever imagined. You are being finger-fucked in the sun and you've never been so turned on.

So you go for it. Nervously, but determinedly, you spread your knees wider. Unless the girl with the thin sexy ankles and the magic touch behind you is blind, she is now going to have the best view in the house of your hot, aching, dripping, pulsing pussy.

She can have it. It's hers to do with as she wishes. But what will she do?