I booked us into a beachfront bed and breakfast for Memorial Day weekend. The mornings were fucking followed by brunch. The evenings were fucking followed by a snuggle until sleep. At night, his arm stretched and folded. The hand tucked between his head and the pillow. The elbow pointed up. I sunk into the hollow. My fingers brushed his torso, the hairy chest, the paunch he needs weeks in the gym to remedy, the forest of his pubis. The penis was half hard and wet with sperm and pussy. My lips pecked the underarm, which also bore his scent.
We walked along the strand. The waves broke against our shins. Wanting to be nearer to the sunset, I hazarded the frigid water to the depth of my waist. He shuffled in behind me. Though soft, the cock was substantial in his trunks. He imposed it between the hemispheres of my buttocks. The ocean pushed my body backward. My bikini bottom was red with gold trim. It showed the cheeks but was otherwise modest. His hand slipped in the front. Under lycra, the fingers reached for cunt. In our room, I went down on him before he showered and tasted sea salt on his prick. Before the point of no return, he extricated himself from my mouth. Because he set the temperature arctic, I waited my turn to bathe.
He took me to dinner at a fancy restaurant on Sunday. A second bottle of wine for the two of us rendered me tipsy. I licked my lips after dessert and told him that I wanted him to bugger me. We did it outside. Legs spread, I braced my arms against the trunk of the car on a deserted patch of beach.
Our deck overlooked the seaside. In the mid-afternoon, the ocean was pacific and blue. Beer bottle in hand, I leaned against the railing in a flower patterned sundress. He was shirtless in orange broad shorts. When I was sure he was looking, I hoisted the dress over my head. The triangle top and the bottom, both of which tied, were weave. The nipples showed through, but his eyes instinctively darted down. His loins twitched. It amused me how a small peek aroused him when he had seen everything so many times before. Balancing on one leg, I smeared sunblock over the other. He slathered my back. His hands lingered on my breasts, which spilled from the fabric. I read for a while, feet on the edge of the chair, knees up, then inclined the beach chair flat and turned onto my belly. He left me to my novel for ten minutes, then commenced. His hands traveled from the shoulders to the ass and thighs. I loosened the knots on the sides. He provided cunnilingus and anilingus. We were elevated and out of sight, but the sand below us was populated. I bit the towel to keep from moaning. The fingers inside made me cream.
I wheeled my bag to the rental car on Tuesday morning. The shirt clung to my curves. In the bright sun, the white skirt with lace motifs became see through. I was bare below because I wanted him to touch me while I drove.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/39ca6b/memorial_day_weekend_mf