Her eyes, waves of azure crashing into drops of sun-bleached driftwood; the color of storm swept shores with an intensity to rival violent typhoons. Her skin, pale silk adorned with amber freckles; offset by full heart shaped lips…

Oh those lips. A currant colored portal for a smile crafted by angels. A dazzling simper concealing the sweetest tongue, her mouth a passage for the sharpest wit, or breathy moans laced with honey.

A slender, sand colored body lifting to meet me with every thrust. Her hips ebbing and flowing, matching the rhythm of my own rolling into her. The heave of her voluminous breasts like a building tsunami.

I break away before the current pulls us under. I want to taste her. My lips graze her body as I inhale her sweet summery scent. I catch her nipple in my teeth and am rewarded with a moan like a night wind over the water, deep and throaty and sublime. I stay, for a moment, but I want more. I need more.

I part her with my tongue, slipping into her shallowly at first. She tastes of honey and spice and sea salt sweat and I drink her in. I am lapping her brine and my tongue is the waves crashing upon her and I know she will be lost to the riptide soon. I delve deeper into her and she bucks beneath me. She begins to contract against my mouth and I know she is fighting the coming torrent.

I raise my gaze to meet her sea-storm eyes watching mine, and watch her face contort; lips parting, as I draw her pearl between my lips. A final pass of my tongue and I am met with the rush of the tide pulsing from her. So wet, so sweet, but not enough. I will fill this bed with an ocean, to match the one in her eyes.

Photo by Oliver Sju00f6stru00f6m on Pexels.com

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