Taking It All Off

Her gaze drifted down, to the open front of his shorts, and she smiled. “Now it’s your turn.” She sat up, feet dragging in the sand, and swung the hammock back and forth, bumping against his legs. “This could be interesting.”

He grasped her hips to still her. “I think you need to take your shorts off.”

He expected her to object, to protest she couldn’t get naked when they were practically in public, but eyes locked to his, she stripped the shorts off in one movement and dropped them in the sand. “Your turn,” she repeated.

He discarded shorts and briefs, though he felt a little silly with the breeze blowing across his naked butt. Anyone walking by would have no doubt about what was going on in the shadows when they spotted his pale cheeks glowing in the moonlight.

She reached around and cupped his bottom. “You have a very nice butt. I’ve noticed it before. Especially when you wear your motorcycle leathers.”

“Oh, so you’ve been lusting after me before now?” The thought pleased him.

“I may be a little repressed, but I’m not dead.”

“I don’t think you’re all that repressed, either.” He leaned forward, nudging the tip of his penis against her opening. He was anxious to be in her now.

She smiled up at him. “I guess I’m not, am I?” She pushed back with one foot, swinging out of his reach, then poised there, leaning toward him. “Something’s missing here.”

“Do you mean a condom? I’ve got one in my pocket.” He started to reach down for his shorts, but she stopped him, one hand wrapped around his cock.

“I was thinking we needed a little more…lubrication.” With that, she bent and took him into her mouth. He let out a low groan and clutched her shoulders as her lips and tongue wrapped around him. She licked and suckled, her touch light, then stronger, keeping him teetering on the edge. He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into her. Should he hold back, or let himself go?

She raised her head and through his glazed vision, he was aware of her smiling at him. “I think we’re ready for that condom now.”

She took the packet from his stiffened fingers and opened it. He almost lost it when she rolled the rubber on him, but somehow maintained control. Then she lay back and wrapped her thighs around him. “Let’s see how this hammock works.”

Sinking into her was sheer heaven. She tightened around him, hot and wet, and he thrust forward, rocking the hammock. With little effort, they fell into a steady rhythm of thrust and sway, a tantalizing dance in time to the music which throbbed overhead. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to sensation: the pulsing music, the smell of sand and saltwater and sex, the exquisite sensation of Glynna clenching him, holding and releasing him, desire building, as he thrust faster, deeper…