There was once a girl who lived near a roaring seashore, adorned with tall palm trees and hills that decorated the vista. The sun shined at an angle, peaking through the few white clouds that floated away into the horizon.
She gently walked across the beach, the wind howled in tandem with the ocean. The wind would pull strands of her black, messy long hair across her face, which she would tuck behind her ear in annoyance. A pink hibiscus lay pinned in her hair, right behind her left ear. Perhaps a fake one, but pretty enough to complement her sleek body. Her tanned skin was covered in a dull black sleeveless crop top, with her back glistening bare, through a net of strings that explored her behind, and held that top together. And a dark red skirt, with subtle pleats, amply covering her thighs. The skirt hardly stayed put against the amorous winds. Her breasts were chastily hidden, but the fact that they were big enough to droop low, almost wanting to kiss the earth, did not help the unmarried, or even the married men to not steal a peak. She walked barefoot, leaving trails in sand that would vanish as soon as the bustling waves sucked them in, as they flowed back and forth.
She peered across the horizon, trying hard to distinguish between the blue skies and the ocean, as for once it seemed that both merged into one at a distance. She looked down at her feet, her toes submerged in the wet sand. She giggled at this, for unknown reasons, still periodically clearing her face of strings of her own hair. She turned around, her back facing the ocean, she walked forward until her feet no more sunk in- where the sand was dry. She turned back around, and sat down, her legs cascading forward, her skirt receding a tad bit; with her shins glowing under the sun, she softly brushed the sand off her thighs. Which was pretty redundant, as the wind would only sprinkle more on her. She set her hands down on the sand, a little behind her, supporting her body as she slightly leaned back, closed her eyes and hummed
She started to part her long legs, the sand sticking to the underside of them. Her skirt, pulled back, the hem delicately resting on her thighs, was no match for the strong, ravenous gusts of wind that in a raging fit of lust blew right under her, tossing the skirt up. The hem fell back, but now pulled all the way up. If not for the portion that lay stuck under her buttocks, as she sat on it, and not directly on the sand, and the fact that it was quite obviously attached to her waist, the skirt did not fly away to eternity. She bit her lip and giggled, the ocean and the winds had made her cheeks blush up a dark shade of red. Unknown to no one that was on that beach, she did not wear any underwear.
She put her hand on her thigh. Her fingers danced around in contemplation. She looked around to assure herself that no one else was present there. Her fingers slid along a trail, that continued to the inner portion of her thighs, where she could feel the heat of her frustration, a fire thirstily screaming to be put out. She brought her hand closer to her furnace, a rather odd term for it, and took a deep breath. She let go of her lips as she exhaled and smirked softly. She still supported her back on one hand as the other sat on top of her slit. Her short curly pubic hair, like a crown, had grown above her princess parts. She slid her index finger down, biting her lips yet again as it rubbed against her pink pearl. She rubbed her finger against it in circles, feeling her bean swelling up, engorged with blood, all in heavenly pleasure. She whimpered softly. In the heat to discover further, she slowly placed her index, and middle finger on each of her plump lips, spreading it open to the cold, humid winds that blew towards her direction. Her pretty mound opened up, her petals started to fall apart. What once seemed an innocent little young bud, had bloomed into a flower. She brought her fingers up, opening her mouth and sticking them in, sensually licking them wet, and pulling them out. A string of her own saliva suspended between her lips and fingers, that was soon torn apart by the wind. She placed her wet fingers on her petals- her inner pussy lips and started to rub them back and forth, quite slowly. Her clitoris pulsed with pleasure. Her love hole, exposed, grew hot, only to be cooled by the cold winds.
Her lips lay apart as moans after moans escaped her mouth. Her fingers were inside her essence, digging deep into the depths of her womanhood. She bobbed her head back and closed her eyes in pleasure. The ocean, like a savage emperor, decided to expand his control over the sand that lay dried, untouched. As the first drops of her nectar soaked her own flower, the waves soaked the sand that sat below her feet. Her feet wriggled and her toes stuttered as she pried open her pussy further, her fingers now wet. She knew that the only person who could make her feel good, was she herself. With that in mind, the depths of her cavern retaliated against this hopeless explorer, which was determined to dig deep, and dig hard- until the fruit for which it bore into the cave, was found.
The ocean lept forward, as the sun started to set. The winds grazed against her wet slit, which was still being ravished by her fingers. Her thumb stuck out to pleasure her needy little bean, pressing against it quite desparately. Her fluids started to ooze out further, sticking to the fabric of the skirt that lay underneath her. She was of course, very well aware of this fact, but for once, let go of her prudency. She only wished for someone to grope her breasts, or perhaps her voluptuous buttocks. The winds blew hard again, and goosebumps adorned her neck as her groin felt this cold little bite- her soaked fingers and wet privates made it hard for her to ignore the air. Her flower was flowing with ecstasy, her hand grew tired, but her fingers wished to never leave. The waves submerged her legs in, and her thighs grew cold as the sand under them imbibed the saline water.
She opened her eyes as she found her spot. Her reward. Her fruit. Her fingers scratched her walls with increased vigour, as though they were scratching off a lucky draw coupon they sold at the fair. A drop of sweat slid down her neck, only stopping at her collarbone. Her thighs started to jerk, her moans grew louder, she pushed against her own fingers as though they were no more a part of her appendages, she clenched her teeth hard and groaned to her heart’s content. Her cunt squelched and dripped with perversion as she drilled it harder, arched her back, and as if thunder had struck her, her body trembled and shook, as jets of her pent up frustration shot into the ocean that had only started to graze her thighs. She almost tried to take a breath, a futile attempt, as she soaked the sand she sat upon, with small fountains of warmth that shot out with no breaks in between.
The ocean retreated. Its vows carried no value when the lady had conquered it instead. She suckled her fingers, tasting herself as she took deep breaths to calm herself, and to regain her senses.
She stood up, with her skirt falling back to its place, she sighed and stretched. The sun had almost set, the winds had calmed. But the ocean marched forward, yet again, soaking the sand which bore her imprints.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/96qqqn/when_she_made_love_to_the_shore