Monday, August 2, 2010

The beach.

My chest widens, my shoulders broaden, my lungs are swelling as I drink deeply of the scent of you over that of the crashing surf. The faint whisper of patchouli salt from underneath your warm, sandy arms blends with the spray from the sea and I am left transfixed in a moment of pure, feral pleasure. My eyelids close and, unconsciously, I feel them roll back as my most animal nature tightens my face in complete and total bliss. Stars explode in my head.

The breeze cascades the long locks of my hair across your shoulders and face while I hold you close. I breathe deeply, continuing to take your essences in, and the palm of my hand tightens around your belly with my coiling arm. I hold you close. My toes slink deep into cooler layers of sand, and the grit is wonderful between them. I lower my face to your shoulder.

The sun elicits your sweat into a mingling with the coconut oil that glistens on your golden skin. I taste the nape of your neck, sand upon my tongue, your necklace and your bones meeting my tender lips. I harden. I feel my blood swelling into me, lengthening me, thickening me, my heart beating faster to push my life quickly and throbbing into me until I am sliding at the small of your back. I slide along coconut oil and nodules of sand as I hold you closer, tighter, ignoring the grit because to move away would be unthinkable.

I cup your breast in my palm. I rest my head on your shoulder. We watch the gulls and the motion of the waves.


Dolores YK Haze said...

Hey Rogue,
What a coincidence, I was just writing my own accounting of a seaside adventure, too.
My attempts, however, to start a blog have been for naught.
May I still send you what I'm writing, and you can do with it what you will? It's always nice to get notes, especially from the One and Only Urban Rogue.
Dolores YK Haze

Rogue said...

I bet you're adorably cute while struggling with sand in your knickers.

You're more than welcome to share with me, and I'm sure I'd enjoy reading you. Why the trouble with blogging though?

My email is this dot urban dot rogue at gmail dot com.

And you are so good for my ego. But be warned: it won't save you from the spankings that we both know you just so richly deserve, you wayward little tart, you.