#263) On the Beach

She was trying to be coquettish, perching her pert little butt on her heels in the nude on the beach.
He’d just wooed her by impressing her with the most romantic date further up the beach (where there weren’t any rocks). Jeff had spread out a big blanket, opened a basket of fresh fruit and cheeses and chilled wine, even planted a long stem rose in the sand.
The beach was deserted. The weather was perfect. The mood sublime. Jill’s libido engaged.
They’d finished eating. The sun would be going down soon.
Jill stood, “Let’s go for a walk,” she smiled.
“Sounds lovely,” he responded, kissing her.
“This was lovely,” she whispered as their lips parted, “thank you for this memory…”
They strolled hand-in-hand. She was only wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and a small knit top. It just seemed right to shed these impediments, so she did. It was the first time Jeff saw Jill in the nude, on the beach near dusk as they both were falling in love at the end of a perfect date. He started to disrobe, but was wearing more clothes than she was, so it took a minute. That’s when Jill posed, kneeling on a rounded rock, hands on knees, butt stuck out, trying to be provocative, seductive, coquettish was the word that came to mind. She saw that he was tumescent; she wanted him hard. She didn’t want to have to suck him. She was ready for it and she wanted him to be just as eager. She wanted to be taken. She wanted it to be impulsive, and unscripted, and raw. She wanted him to be demanding, and ravenous, and single-minded. She sat on her heels and stuck her bare butt out and looked back at him over her shoulder, and tried to look innocent yet challenging.
Jeff was on Jill’s wave-length. No words were necessary, would just get in the way. He pushed the back of her head down nearly to the stone in front of her, and she raised her ass up high. Her thighs were parted, her cheeks were parted, he could see all her feminine charms, both vaginal and anal, both aroused, both needy, as needy as Jill and Jeff were. Hungry.
He pushed his erection into her sex almost violently, so forcefully that she had to brace herself with her hands. He was balls-deep inside her in one urgent thrust. That was when they both discovered that a few grains of sand had invaded her pussy just before Jeff did. They both simultaneously discovered why they make sandpaper from beach sand. It chaffed, scrapped, ground into the partners where they were most tender and vulnerable.
“Fuck!” they both yelled in unison, but fucking was out of the question.

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