“Let’s go to the beach today!” I bounced on the bed, waking you from a shallow mid-morning sleep.
You groaned. “What time is it? And isn’t it too cold for a beach day?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up foreeeeeever,” I whined.
“We could just stay in bed today.”
I pouted as you opened one eye to peak at me, eyebrow raised. I was already wearing my pink polka dot swimsuit. Your favorite. I gave you my biggest puppy dog eyes. “Please?”
“Fiiiiine,” You said, pulling me into your arms and making me giggle. “A beach day actually sounds nice. Let’s give your sister a call and see if she and that new man of hers want to meet us there.”
“Oooh, yeah! I bet they’d be down.”
“I’ll give them a call. But you gotta go drag the beach stuff out of the shed while I do.”
“Deal.” I wiggled out of your arms, despite your best efforts to keep me pressed against your hips. I hated going into that shed. Too many spiders. But if it meant one last day by the ocean before autumn really set in, I would suck it up and haul our beach chairs and umbrella to the car.
You were wrong about one thing: I was definitely warm enough for a beach day despite being mid-September. Our little outdoor shed was about a billion degrees, and I could feel myself start to sweat as I climbed halfway up the ladder up to the loft where we stored our beach gear and started pulling things down.
“Need some help?”
I turned to smile at you, and my breath caught in my throat. You were already in your swim trunks, slung low on your hips. You smirked as my eyes traveled down your chest, down your stomach, and lower. I licked my lips. “I’ll take any help you are offering.”
You grabbed my hips and pulled me down to you. “Outta my way, then, little girl.”
“You like when I get in your way,” I giggled, wrapping my arms around your neck and leaned up so my lips hovered on yours.
Your hands moving from my hips to my ass, and your lips fluttered against mine as you spoke, daring me to kiss you. “We’re never going to make it to the beach if you keep this up.”
“Then you better not want to kiss me.” I said in that low, breathy whisper I knew you couldn’t resist.
“Too fucking late.”
Your lips met mine, softly first, then harder. Our kisses tasted like your minty toothpaste and the cherries I had eaten for breakfast. Your tongue parted my lips and tangled with mine, and it was all I could do to stop from moaning into your mouth. You pushed me back to the wall, stumbling against a shelf. A box of nails went flying. No matter. We’d collect them later, after your hard cock was no longer pressed against my stomach, straining against the fabric of your swim trunks.
I reached down to stroke you, my fingertips lightly grazing the bulge between your legs. You groaned into my neck, giving me the little nibbling kisses you knew would make me melt.
“God the things I want to do to you right now,” you murmured, barely loud enough for me to hear.
“God the things I want you to do to me,” I whispered back, sucking on your ear and making you groan again.
“Your sister is probably already on her way. We don’t have time.” You parted my legs with your thigh and rubbed me gently through my bikini bottoms.
“It can be fast,” I whined, grinding my hips against your leg.
“You know I don’t like to go fast with you,” you said, pulling back and looking deep into my eyes. “You’re the kind of girl who deserves a man who takes his time. Come on.”
You backed up and held out your hand to me. I took it, sighing, and you laughed. “Later, darlin’. I promise. Let’s have a good day at the beach. But you better take a nap in the sun.”
“Because tonight, we’re not getting any sleep.”
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