the mirror.
You promise yourself that for just this weekend, you’ll let her call the shots.
#
The beach is hotter than anything you imagined. But you find you don’t mind it because for too long everything has been cold and clean, sanitized and safe. But this stretch of sand is hot and dirty and you love the quickening of excitement in your belly. You love the sweat collecting under your breasts and on the back of your neck and in the cleft where your thighs meet your sex. The air smells of coconut oil and salt and hot, slick skin. It smells like sex.
Your girlfriend struts ahead of you in the sand. She’s wearing an identical bikini to yours but in black. For the first time since you’ve known her, you realize that she’s got a very nice figure that she’s kept hidden, too. Combined with this surprise trip, the whole thing makes you wonder what other secrets she’s keeping.
But for the meantime, you focus on trying not to gape at the muscular chests and tiny trunks the young men are wearing. A few of those swimsuits contain obvious erections and for some reason you find yourself trying to imagine the exact shapes of their cocks. This thought shocks you, but the seductress just laughs at you. She’s in charge right now, remember?
Your friend finds two chairs beneath a large red umbrella. It’s close enough to the waterline that you have an unobstructed view of the people frolicking in the surf. There’s even a waiter assigned to meeting your every need. He immediately returns bearing two large glasses with paper umbrellas. The fruity concoction inside is sweet, cold, and delicious.
“I think I could get used to this,” you say, taking a sip.
She shoots you a Mona Lisa smile. “Just you wait.”
Before you can question her, two tall, tanned men approach. You estimate they’re at least a decade younger than you. You don’t care. They’re beautiful with their muscles and their olive skin and their slim hips that were made for thrusting.
It’s been so long since a man flirted with you that you’re nervous. But you let your friend take the lead and soon you find it’s a lot easier to fall into the rhythm of seduction than you remembered. Besides, what’s the harm in a little flirtation? It’s not the same as cheating, right?
The one who sits at the foot of your lounge chair has broad shoulders and a trail of dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his swim briefs. Your pale skin looks like milk next to his coffee. The contrast turns you on, as does the heat of his calloused palm when he touches your ankle. You imagine what it would feel like to have those rough hands grab your ass. He smiles like he can read your mind.
You realize that if you’re not careful, the seductress is going to get you in trouble. You awkwardly tell him you’re attached so he won’t get the wrong idea. He leans forward. He smells like dark nights and the spice of sex. “I won’t tell anyone,” he whispers.
He licks his lips like he can’t wait to taste you.
Your pussy quickens. You know if he kisses you right there in front of god and everyone you will absolutely come.
You're thrilled. You’re terrified. You’re horny as hell.
Your friend elbows you and you’re not sure whether you’re relieved by the interruption—or annoyed.
She tells you that the fine young man at her feet has invited the two of you to a party they’re having later that night. You look at your admirer and the promise twinkling in his eyes tells you without a doubt that if you go to this party you will let him fuck you.
Before you can decide whether this thought terrifies or excites you, he picks up your hand, kisses your knuckles and tells you he hopes you come. He emphasizes the last word with a sparkle in his eyes that promises you will.
When he stands you see the proud erection straining against his suit. The sight makes your mouth water.
With a last, lingering glance he turns to leave with his friend. You watch his
You promise yourself that for just this weekend, you’ll let her call the shots.
#
The beach is hotter than anything you imagined. But you find you don’t mind it because for too long everything has been cold and clean, sanitized and safe. But this stretch of sand is hot and dirty and you love the quickening of excitement in your belly. You love the sweat collecting under your breasts and on the back of your neck and in the cleft where your thighs meet your sex. The air smells of coconut oil and salt and hot, slick skin. It smells like sex.
Your girlfriend struts ahead of you in the sand. She’s wearing an identical bikini to yours but in black. For the first time since you’ve known her, you realize that she’s got a very nice figure that she’s kept hidden, too. Combined with this surprise trip, the whole thing makes you wonder what other secrets she’s keeping.
But for the meantime, you focus on trying not to gape at the muscular chests and tiny trunks the young men are wearing. A few of those swimsuits contain obvious erections and for some reason you find yourself trying to imagine the exact shapes of their cocks. This thought shocks you, but the seductress just laughs at you. She’s in charge right now, remember?
Your friend finds two chairs beneath a large red umbrella. It’s close enough to the waterline that you have an unobstructed view of the people frolicking in the surf. There’s even a waiter assigned to meeting your every need. He immediately returns bearing two large glasses with paper umbrellas. The fruity concoction inside is sweet, cold, and delicious.
“I think I could get used to this,” you say, taking a sip.
She shoots you a Mona Lisa smile. “Just you wait.”
Before you can question her, two tall, tanned men approach. You estimate they’re at least a decade younger than you. You don’t care. They’re beautiful with their muscles and their olive skin and their slim hips that were made for thrusting.
It’s been so long since a man flirted with you that you’re nervous. But you let your friend take the lead and soon you find it’s a lot easier to fall into the rhythm of seduction than you remembered. Besides, what’s the harm in a little flirtation? It’s not the same as cheating, right?
The one who sits at the foot of your lounge chair has broad shoulders and a trail of dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his swim briefs. Your pale skin looks like milk next to his coffee. The contrast turns you on, as does the heat of his calloused palm when he touches your ankle. You imagine what it would feel like to have those rough hands grab your ass. He smiles like he can read your mind.
You realize that if you’re not careful, the seductress is going to get you in trouble. You awkwardly tell him you’re attached so he won’t get the wrong idea. He leans forward. He smells like dark nights and the spice of sex. “I won’t tell anyone,” he whispers.
He licks his lips like he can’t wait to taste you.
Your pussy quickens. You know if he kisses you right there in front of god and everyone you will absolutely come.
You're thrilled. You’re terrified. You’re horny as hell.
Your friend elbows you and you’re not sure whether you’re relieved by the interruption—or annoyed.
She tells you that the fine young man at her feet has invited the two of you to a party they’re having later that night. You look at your admirer and the promise twinkling in his eyes tells you without a doubt that if you go to this party you will let him fuck you.
Before you can decide whether this thought terrifies or excites you, he picks up your hand, kisses your knuckles and tells you he hopes you come. He emphasizes the last word with a sparkle in his eyes that promises you will.
When he stands you see the proud erection straining against his suit. The sight makes your mouth water.
With a last, lingering glance he turns to leave with his friend. You watch his
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