are all a lust generation  

sparkee58 58M
606 posts
1/29/2006 12:07 pm

Last Read:
8/23/2006 8:05 am are all a lust generation

There were two seasons at Wrightsville Beach. The summer when all the young horny tourists prowled the streets on the weekends, stumbling from Red Dog's live hard rock to The Palm Room where we ate steaming local oysters by the peck. It was a primative, no stop hunt for sex. And then the winter, when the locals breathed a sigh of relief and got back the pool tables and bar stools and didn't have to stand sweating, three deep around the bar, just to get a warm red snapper. Wrightsville Beach fitted us like Kami's two piece. It was marrrrvelous.
On living there one year, we were now locals, and could sport the bumper sticker that said, "Welcome to Wrightsville Beach. Now go Home." It was summer now and I would wake up to glorious sunshine streaming through the windows, the crash of surf and the shriek of the white gulls, or flying rats as they were called.
One morning, I was walking back with my rod thrown over my shoulder and carrying two fat, slimy flounder for lunch in the bait bucket. I had forgotten to bring fresh water and was starting to dehydrate. Stupid thing to do, in this heat. An umbrella, colored like a pinwheel, was stuck in the ground a quarter mile ahead. It was still early and it was the only one out. The first hulking condos were still on the horizon.
Under this umbrella, when I finally stood in it's cooling shade was a woman. She lay back in a folding lounge chair covered with a huge towel. Her black hair was pulled up and tied. The top of her small bikini lay in the white sand beside a half empty glass. Her eyes were hidden behing dark sunglasses; I couldn't tell if she was awake or not. Her body was tanned all over. Her breasts were smallish with little sleeping brown nipples. Light sweat stood on her dark skin. Both legs were firmly planted on each side of the chair. My eyes landed on her pink bikini bottoms.
There were no black hairs peeking out. The small triangle of material was surrounded by brown smooth looking skin. A large portion of the suit was sucked in by her pussy and it looked awfully inviting. I just stood there looking at it.
"My husband is in the car. He'll be right back." she said.
"I just want some water. I forgot mine and I'm starting to get lightheaded."
She raised the sunglasses and looked me over. Satisfied, she pointed to the cooler and I took out a bottle of water and drank.
"What's in the bucket," she asked. She made no attempt to cover her breasts. They energetically jiggled as she talked.
She seemed interested so I went into detail about fishing and cooking. She listened intently.
"You know my husband isn't really in the car," she said.
"I know. I could see you for a mile away."
"He's in Florida. And I'm stuck here. Alone."
"Why don't you have dinner with me."
"You know my husband doesn't like to eat me. I don't know why." She tossed off the dregs of her drink. "I can't believe I'm telling you this."
"Tell me. I'm your secret keeper," I said. I poured her another drink from the pitcher in the cooler, pulled it to the sand between her legs and sat down.
'Will you put some oil on my legs," she asked, handing me the Banana Boat. So I squirted the oil on each thigh and worked it in, going in slow circles from the bottom of her firm thigh to the backs of her legs. She lay one leg on my shoulder and I got a tantalizing view of her as I messaged her legs, slowy working upward.
At the top of he legs I circled around her inner thighs. Her legs were open. At the end of my circles my fingertips went under the cloth and I felt the steam of a hot furnace. I stroked just outside, not quite touching the lips, and on the next pass her hot pussy sucked up my fingers. She moaned in pleasure.
I leaned forward and pulled her bikini bottoms to the side. It was black haired, not as cavernous as Lori's, but still mysterious and with the same large pink labia. I pulled them apart and licked up and down her, sliding my tongue deep into her at the bottom, and then, licking up to her hard button on top, where my tonge did wet circles. And then back down and inside her. I did this for ten minutes. Her fingers pulled at my hair. She raised her hips off the chair, gasping, her teeth clenched. Almost...almost....almost...ALMOST...
I stopped and pulled away.
"Nooooo! What are you doing?"
I waited for her to come down from her plateau, and then I started again, gently flicking my tougue on her clitoris. And then the pace picked up and I was rubbing my entire face into her, my nose and chin covered with her juices. This time her orgasm built on the one she almost had before and it doubled her pleasure, she told me later.
She gasped and trembled for minutes as she held my head there. Then she tried to push me away and I wouldn't stop, licking madly at her until she had a second one, just as powerful.
"You can have another water now, if you want," she said laughing.
"Dinner?" I asked.
I told her the address. The I got another water and walked down the white sandy beach. The entire summer was like that.

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