Entry for A Picture is Worth Thousand Words - Summer Beach Mini Edition Contest
Winner of the Summer Lovin' Award
Thank you to all who supported the contest and voted. Without readers they are just words in a void. /groups/460094101314978
Grains of Sand
Dry sand slips through my fingers as I tighten my fists in ecstasy. My bodys rigid as you work me over. A slight breeze floats across my exposed skin heightening my arousal. I can feel you everywhere yet still want more. Your tongue is tracing the vein on my neck as I tilt it back, opening it up to you. The sand is moving as we move together, burying us into the beach. Your skin is glistening, beads of sweat and grains of sand bouncing off the sunlight. Filling me over and over again. Birds chirping in the distance and the sound of gentle waves rushing in and pulling away again. I feel myself climbing higher towards the peak.
More. I need more.
You increase your pace and I'm on the brink. Don't stop!
Your hand is palming my butt cheeks. Lips now wrapped around my nipple.
I feel the tightening of my abdomen.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
What is that awful noise?
So distracting. Keep going, just a bit more.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
My eyes fly open.
I'm so disoriented and disappointed.
I'm not on the beach. You are not hovering over me with the sun dancing on your skin. I'm laid in bed with my alarm sounding. Waking up from one of the best sex dreams I have ever experienced. It far surpasses any real life experience.
Damn, I wish it was real. Your hands felt so good against my skin, molding me like putty.
I go through my morning routine in a daze. Wondering if I close my eyes can I recapture the moment. My mind refuses to conjure up the images of my desire.
I make my way into the office, still frustrated at what could have been. I take the stairs trying to work off some of the tension. It doesn't help but the coffee I pour myself will. Slowly, I work through the days tasks. Needing to be careful due to my mind wandering back to this morning.
Later that morning you walk past my desk and give that small smirk of yours. My cheeks flame in memory of what my subconscious had you do to me in the night. Ducking my head and smoothing out my skirt. If you had any idea of what I dreamt, you would blush too.
"Good morning Miss Swan" your voice deep and gravelly.
"Good morning Mr Cullen." I reply shyly. Still unable to make eye contact.
One of these days I will be brave enough to say more than a few words in your presence. For now I have the memory of you walking into your office with your pants hugging your ass in a delicious, bite me, kind of way.
If only I could make it a reality?
Would love to hear your thoughts.
Pixie