Loading...It is a picture postcard night on the deserted beach, and I am the insomniac drifting in its midst. There is no real reason why I can’t sleep – I am just another restless soul in search of moonlight and some sea air. By day, I am a doctor. My hours are spent putting other lives before my own, offering hope to the hopeless and performing the miracles of modern medicine on a daily basis.
It sounds exhilarating, but in excess, it can make you lose something irretrievable. What it is, I couldn’t even begin to explain, but I know that of late it has begun to ebb from me in a tide of other people’s problems. It is perhaps for this reason that I am drawn to the stillness of the dark. Recently, these moments have become sacred to me. They are my time of reflection, my time without limits – but more than anything, my time to heal my aching soul. I cling to them as a dream and hope that one night, I might stumble across a dawn.
I am walking along the shoreline, gazing at the stars’ reflection in the sea. Everything is silent apart from the hush of the waves and the fluttering of the breeze through the palms. It is mid-November, and unseasonably warm. The moon hangs large and low over the ocean, illuminating the scene with the pearly glow of fairytales. It is dreamlike, yet very real. I can taste the salt in the air and detect almost every ripple in the dark shimmering expanse before me. The beauty of the moment intoxicates me, and for a few moments I so wrapped up in this world that her presence catches me completely unawares.
It is four o’clock in the morning, the dying stages of the night, and she is swimming in the ocean. Strong bronzed arms rise from the water and then fall back again in a rhythm smooth as satin. Indeed, there is barely a splash as she glides towards me, her firm butt curving seductively above the waves and inviting me to admire it. I am entranced.
It’s strange. It’s not the first time I’ve encountered a person on my moonlit travels, but it is the first time that I haven’t considered it a death knell to my precious solitude. This woman is different. It is almost as though she is a living part of the landscape, the jewel in the crown and the gold in the stream. Within seconds, I find myself wanting to watch her for an eternity.
All too soon, she rises out of the water, shaking a glittering shower of droplets from her long dark hair. Her eyes turn towards me – steady, dark as the night, and embossed with the pale moon glow around us. In this light, her white swimsuit appears almost translucent, and I trace the contours of her body through it with a lust that surprises me. Her nipples are hard from water’s caress and stand out in two dark circles through the clinging fabric. I notice the area where her toned thighs meet, and gape when I notice the clear outline of her pussy.
She sees me looking, and starts towards me. In a panic, I turn to the horizon, trying desperately to calm the pounding of my heart. I am far too responsible for casual intimacy, but there is something about this woman that banishes all reason from my mind. She is beautiful and breathes sex from every pore in her body.
“A little late for walking…” she says in a voice laced with velvet and wet dreams. I turn towards her and try to sound confident, but the nervous waver in my voice speaks more than words.
“No more so than it is for swimming.” She raises her eyebrows in a playful manner.
“True, but maybe exercise wasn’t my purpose. Maybe I just like the feel of the water rushing over my clit. Maybe I’m just like everyone else and find sleep a lot easier after a powerful orgasm. You might even call it a fetish.” I blush in a mixture of embarrassment and lust, and find myself longing for a powerful wave to come along and sweep me from this situation. But the only wetness I feel is gathering rapidly in my pussy, beginning to coat the unprotected skin of my thighs, and feeding my raw nerves. “Don’t be afraid,” she continues, edging closer still, “You should forget your embarrassment and just try it. I always think of it as one of Mother Nature’s gifts to women.”
“I don’t know…” I bluster, “It’s late… and I’m hardly dressed for a swim…”
The eyebrows are raised again, and as she tilts her head to one side, I face an overwhelming sense of being out of control.
“But you are already awake,” comes her reply, “And there’s nothing to stop you taking off your clothes for a while.” I glance down at my modest bathrobe. I never see the point in wearing much at this time of night, not least when the weather is so balmy. But tonight I am beginning to regret my recklessness. It feels as though she can see straight through me – through the folds of the silk through to my naked skin and raging hormones beneath. She is now within arm’s reach, and before I have the chance to protest, she has unfastened the tie, causing the garment to fall open at the waist and reveal more than I have ever revealed to a total stranger.
My hands hover uncertainly at my sides. It is difficult to know how to react. Under any other circumstances, this would be my worst nightmare, but tonight it’s very different. Her eyes drop down my body. Although my nipples are concealed, my pussy is wide open to her view. Without knowing why, the experience has my juices flowing, and I find myself pulling the edges of my robe further apart to give her the full benefit of my shapely breasts.
“Baby…” she whispers, “You’re beautiful…” It makes no difference that we barely know each other. Something magical is passing between us, and neither of us wants to let go. I look deep in her eyes and feel nothing but trust. Her hands are soon on my shoulders, and as soon as she moves her lips towards mine, she has slipped the garment down, allowing it to drop in a crumpled heap behind me.
When we kiss, the earth moves. Her lips are so gentle, so soft, and so persistent as they move hungrily over mine. I edge closer, wanting to feel her body pressed tight against me. I want to feel her excitement and know that she wants me as bad as I think she does.
At first, we are breast to breast, sucking slowly on each other’s lips. Her nipples are almost boring their way into mine, and I can feel them getting harder by the second. I lean deeper into the kiss and feel her tongue beginning to work its way into my mouth. I am breathless. When I feel the cool dampness of her crotch making contact with the fire of my own, I know it is time to stop. But it is impossible. Showing herself to be a true professional at this game, my seductress has manoeuvred me into a hold that binds me to her like the sea to the moon. With one hand flat against the middle of my back and the other nestled in the fold between my ass and thigh, I am powerless as she draws me in tighter to the point where my pussy is forced open against the grinding pressure of her own.
It is difficult to contain my gasp when I feel the intrusion of her massive clit. Being a lesbian, I consider gynaecological examinations to be one of the highlights of my job. No two pussies are ever the same, and I treat each and every one of them with a tenderness and sensitivity that not even my most accomplished male counterpart could aspire towards. I love the soft fragility that a woman gives out when the most secret part of her body is on display. It bowls me over, and I am not ashamed to admit there have been times during my career when it’s been a real struggle to maintain my professionalism. Despite my credentials, I am only human; and like everybody else, I have my needs. Even though I am unable to see what this lady has to offer, and even though the only sensation I have is veiled by the thin lycra of her swimsuit, I know instinctively that this is one potential patient who would have pushed my integrity beyond its limit.
There is a part of me that wants to indulge in this fantasy, and let her ravish my body with all her smouldering passion. Mesmerised, I hook my thumbs under the straps of her swimsuit and begin to ease them down her toned shoulders. She offers no resistance as I do so, even sliding her arms out, allowing me to pull the clinging fabric lower. Breaking free from the kiss, my eyes follow her neck down towards the smooth flush of her chest and her heaving breasts below it. They are perfect in both shape and size, firm and tanned like the rest of her spellbinding body, and almost crying out for the attention of my lips.
I take a finger and trace delicate circles around each of her aroused nipples. I notice her watching me, and the way her breath is coming heavier by the second. I am on the verge of closing my hand around one of these breasts, squeezing it gently and beginning a massage that would lead to one thing alone. But suddenly I am overcome by a wave of panic. I don’t even know this woman’s name, and here I am in the early hours standing naked before her and lusting after the hot juices of her cunt.
I push her away and begin to doubt my own sanity. I take a few steps back, but for all my efforts and resolve, can’t tear my eyes from her perfect and highly sexual figure. She looks at me and smiles, before extending her hand in a gesture of friendship.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, baby,” she soothes, “We can just swim if you like – just relax in the water and let everything that’s troubling you drift away.” A playful glint flashes across her eyes before she continues, “And you can even keep your knees tight together so that not even the water comes near to your pussy… if that’s what you really want. I just saw you, and I want to spend time with you, because I think you’re beautiful. It’s nothing to be afraid of…”
Just the fact that I’m unable to say “no” terrifies me – especially when she rolls the swimsuit down over her waist and steps out of it in a gesture of equality. Try as I might to retain some kind of dignity, my eyes are drawn to her shaven crotch and become fixated when I spot the erect nub of her clit protruding from between her lips.
She approaches me again, and this time I launch my lips directly at her salty nipples. It is evident from her moan that I have taken her by surprise. Her fingers brush up the back of my neck as she presses my head closer to her bosom, almost swooning under the sensation of my tongue. I am sucking slowly and steadily, her nipples now deep inside my mouth whilst my tongue flicks over them in relentless desire.
This time, when she moves her hips towards mine, I am able to appreciate fully the sensation of her clit grazing against my own. She rocks back and forth, steady as the sea and maintaining her rhythm despite the excitement beginning to flood us both. The eroticism of two cunts grinding together in the moonlight is something that will always lie beyond the reach of words. The scent of arousal hangs low in the air, floating on the breeze and wrapping us in a spell that can exist only between two women.
Although the first rays of morning sun are yet to reach this lonely beach, the tide washing around our feet is a timely reminder that the night is drawing to a close. Soon, the area will belong once more to the world of the living, the world of the real, and the world of the sensibly mundane. It is one of those moments when you realise how short life actually is – what little time we have to ourselves once our worldly duties, responsibilities and obligations have been fulfilled.
I feel a soft pressure pushing my head downwards, and for the first time ever feel beautifully reckless.
“Eat my pussy, baby…” she whispers, her breathing ragged with anticipation. There is little need for words. We are on the same wavelength. She knows exactly what I want, just as I know the full dark extent of her desires. I have been longing to taste her from the moment I saw her rise from the waves.
Slowly, I kneel down in the surf, positioning my head directly between her legs. She spreads them slightly, and braces herself for the initial contact, but it is slow coming. I want to savour this moment under the stars, and stretch it beyond the sands of time. For a while, I simply breathe in her arousal. Not a detail of her womanhood escapes me. I love the gentle curves of her lips, and the way her wetness glistens around their edges. I place a gentle kiss on the inside of her thigh and trail my fingers over her pussy. The heat radiating from it is reminiscent of the midday sun, and the more I stroke it, the wider it spreads open – like the petals of a rare flower.
When I am finally able to see its dilated opening, I press my tongue against it, drinking in her juices and pushing until I am completely inside her. She moans loudly, and for a second, I worry that she is going to lose her balance and fall crashing back to the sea. Fortunately, it is a temporary lapse. I grasp the two cheeks of her butt in my hands, and pause until she is steady. By the time my tongue has slid up to her throbbing clit, it is clear that there are no limits any more.
It is almost as though she has unleashed in me an animal instinct suppressed since evolution, because I find myself eating her out with a passion beyond humanity. My tongue slips and twists over her swollen clit with both speed and confidence, and when I taste my own secretions mixed in with her honeyed juices, it is as much as I can do to hold back my own moans of delight. She was made for me to eat her.
By accident, my hand slips, leaving my fingers resting in the crack of her ass. I consider moving them, but for no more than a fraction of a second. The realisation dawns on me – I don’t just want my moonlight lover’s pussy… I want all of her. Her body becomes tense when I slide my fingers down this secret valley, hovering tantalisingly over her asshole before continuing their passage downwards. She is soaking wet to my touch, and when I press lightly against the opening of her pussy, I feel her drawing my fingers inside with astonishing strength.
I need no further invitation. Renewing the momentum of my tongue against her clit, I thrust my two fingers deep inside her like Cupid’s arrow. This was never just a random sexual encounter. Something deeper passed between us the moment she stepped out from the sea, and this is the moment we have both been waiting for, regardless of whether I was willing to admit it or not.
The sudden sensation of having her pussy filled with my fingers is sufficient to send a small orgasm rippling through her body. I am amazed at how easily they slide inside her, and waste little time in beginning a slow fucking movement. The initial spasms over, I feel her dilate even wider to accommodate my pumping fingers, which are now slick with her juices.
I am a tease, who likes her sex slow and tantalising. I can feel another orgasm building up inside my lover – her clit once again swelling against my tongue, and gentle contractions beginning to squeeze against my fingers – so I pull out of her altogether.
She opens her eyes and looks at me pleadingly, almost begging me to make her cum. But I am so busy licking her delicious juices off my fingers that her seconds of agonised anticipation barely register. I run my tongue along her pussy once more, drinking in what she has to offer and sliding my hands back around her butt. Again, I am massaging the entrance of her cunt, almost reeling from the renewed flood of wetness it causes.
A new idea hits me, and I change hands. There is something gloriously kinky about covering yourself in your lover’s juices, and as my fingers become coated, I feel my own cunt screaming for release. My tongue reaches a crescendo on her clit, and I slide my fingers into her once more. It is easier than ever. The area around her opening is both swollen and cushioned, allowing me to brush against every nerve-ending as I glide in and out.
When she feels the pinkie of my other hand pressing against her asshole, her eyes fall open in amazement. I get the distinct impression that no one has ever done this to her before. It is all the encouragement I need. My finger is so wet from her that it slips inside the tight opening before she has the chance to protest. I wiggle it around inside her, allowing her to get used to this unexpected penetration.
Considerate as I would like to regard myself, it doesn’t occur to me for a second to ask her if I’ve taken things too far. I am too busy enjoying the sensation of fucking her ass and cunt at the same time, flicking my tongue randomly over her clit until I feel the first ripples of an overwhelming orgasm building up inside her.
By now, she has let me inside her completely. I squeeze my fingers together and hold her in almost a bowling ball grip. The sense of anticipation is awesome. I allow her a split second to steady herself, resting her hands on my shoulders, before I go into overdrive, licking, sucking, fucking, until her juices begin to run down my wrist in a small stream. She moans, softly at first – a low, breathless whimpering that loses itself in the waves. I know she has never been fucked this deep. As my fingers pump in and out, almost slipping right out of her on occasions, she begins to orgasm hard.
It is just as well that the nearest beach huts lie almost a quarter of a mile across the sand, because soon her cries of ecstasy are filling the night. The muscles of her pussy and her ass begin to clamp down on my fingers, making my movements more sporadic. I probably should have stopped some time ago, but the situation proves more addictive than the hardest narcotic.
With her last ounce of strength, she pushes my head away. Although gentle, the sudden movement catches me off-balance and sends me crashing into the surf. As I lift myself onto my elbows, I am faced with the sight of her post-orgasmic body towering over me. She is magnificent. A brunette version of Botticelli’s Venus, her chest flushed and heaving, and her legs not quite able to close themselves to a respectable proximity. Just seeing the dew gathering around her naked cunt causes my own legs to fall apart in subconscious invitation. I am on fire for her.
From the hunger in her gaze, I half expect her to take me there and then in the roll of the tide. But instead, she moves forward and breaks the silence for the first time since the explosion of our unbridled passion.
“Turn over the other way, baby…” I obey, knowing no other way to respond to this request.
My vulnerable ass now pointing towards her, I experience a new delight in not having the faintest idea what she’s about to do to me. I can sense her closeness; smell her perfume drifting on the breeze and the heat of her breath on my thigh. She is dangerously near to the source of my release, but takes her time in getting there.
I feel a small lick against the inside of my thigh, and realise that she has positioned herself underneath me. The kisses continue – first on one thigh, then on the other, and then back to the first, moving higher and higher towards my cunt. I can only imagine how the heat must be searing her lips right now. My head is spinning, and all the time I am stretching my legs further apart for her. With no warning, I suddenly feel her tongue flick over my clit. She pauses to measure my reaction, then repeats the movement, sending another flood of juices gushing from me.
“Please…” I beg hoarsely, “Eat my pussy.”
The second her mouth fastens around one of my outer lips, I realise that eating barely enters the equation – I am about to be devoured.
It would be fair to say that in my twenty-five years on this planet, I have never been eaten out with such fiery lust. Her tongue darts everywhere – circling my clit, tracing the contours of my pussy, and lapping up the wetness that is increasing by the second. Her lips continue to work their way along the outer lips of my pussy, squeezing gently along each side on her slow, sexy journey towards my entrance.
Her fingers bear down either side of my pussy hole, massaging the muscles around it and spreading it open to the point where it is begging to be fucked. When her wet, probing tongue slips inside me, I let out a gasp. It pauses for a second before flicking over the inner walls of my cunt with playful abandon. She sucks hungrily, causing my knees to buckle from sheer weakness.
When she draws back, it is difficult for me to contain my disappointment. I snap out of my swoon, thrusting my ass back towards her, but she has already slid as far as my clit. I feel another soft pressure against my opening, but this time it is harder, firmer and, as it shoots towards my womb, I realise it is also considerably longer. She is fingering me, two elegant fingers pumping in and out of my pussy. Her lips clamp around my clit and suck on the swollen button, now throbbing with desire.
I am not a woman who’s accustomed to being fucked this hard. To be honest, I am not a woman who’s accustomed to being fucked at all. I have a tight pussy, and lasting memories of far too many trying too much too soon. It has led me to shy away from all kinds of penetration – although perversely, I enjoy fucking other women more than anything else in the world. Where masturbation is concerned, I don’t even own a vibrator. Yet at this moment in time, I am on all fours, my cunt receiving a deep finger-fucking – from a total stranger.
I moan when I feel her spreading me open wider. Her fingers are now barely touching, each focussing on stroking the walls of my pussy and relaxing it into further submission. They slide out a little before being joined by a third finger and creeping back in again, millimetre by millimetre. At the halfway point, she wiggles them around, sending tiny shockwaves through my body. I begin to cum. The stars swim around my line of vision and begin to multiply.
I know the tightness of my pussy has been far too powerful a temptation for her. This is not just a random seduction – it is a game. There are no rules, other than to break down the rules and resolutions that have defined my sex life for years. It suddenly hits me that any late night walker might be gazing over at this intimate scene. But rather than being filled with horror, the thought sends me crashing into another orgasm. Taking advantage of the dramatic increase in lubrication, my lover inserts a fourth finger inside me, spreading them out and beginning to fuck me with her entire hand. I have never felt anything like it. Full beyond capacity, the pressure in my pussy is immense, but the persistent flickers of her tongue across my clit make it the most pleasurable sensation of my life.
Soon, the muscles of my cunt are squeezing so tightly against her hand that it’s as much as she can do to move it at all. Orgasm after orgasm explodes through my body, leaving me whimpering in the moonlight. I no longer know where I am or what is happening – only that I have been taken to another world tonight. Unable to hold my own strength any longer, I feel my body buckling forward into the surf. My last sensation is of her hand slipping out of me as she rolls me onto my back.
It is dawn when I awake. A sharp bleeping from my pocket snaps me back to reality, causing me to leap to my feet with my heart pounding. The automatic reflex of the doctor –attuned as a mother’s ear to her newborn. I have been awake less than five minutes, yet the early morning adrenalin is pumping fast through my veins. It is a day like any other – children playing, dogs powering through the shallows, and early-morning joggers displaying their virtues to the rest of the waking world. In the coarse face of reality, the eroticism of last night fades into a dream. The sea holds many legends, and as I glance wistfully over my shoulder, I come to the sad realisation that this was just one among millions.
I turn for the road, reluctant to leave the golden tide behind. The day is young and already promising to be action-filled, but somehow I’m not really in the mood. I allow my head to drop, and it is now, at this least likely last moment that I notice it – a number carved neatly into the sand right next to me. I bend down and trace the pattern with my finger. It is no random number. Its length makes it easily identifiable as a phone number; and from the prefix, I know immediately that it is local. I look around. There are no obvious pranksters in sight, and of the souls now inhabiting the beach, no one seems remotely interest in my breathless surprise.
This is the moment where my world changes. The morning breeze is now scattering the sand across the beach. In less than an hour, the number will be gone – but in my heart it remains etched forever. I still don’t know her name, but I’m sure I will by the end of the coming night.