Rain and Sand

  Rain and Sand

  by

  Jet Mykles

  She watched him from the door of the coffee shop. He leaned carelessly against the pier rail overlooking the beach, seemingly unconcerned that Mother Nature was unleashing a torrent of rain on his head.

  Not that the rain mattered much in the humidity. That was one of the wonderful things about being in the tropics. You could stand out in the rain wearing nothing but a white tank top, trunks and sandals.

  She cocked her head to the side as she continued to sip her coffee. At least she thought the shirt was white. It was hard to tell as it was currently plastered as a translucent second skin on rock-hard tan skin.

  “Yummy,” said her friend, standing beside her to watch as well.

  Tina made a generic grunt of agreement. “Blonde or brunette?” she asked idly.

  “Can’t tell but... who cares.”

  Tina smiled. Indeed.

  They watched a bit longer. Then she grimaced.

  Hey, you only live once.

  She downed the dregs of her coffee and dumped the cardboard cup into the waste basket.

  “Don’t wait up for me, Jen,” she said, stepping into the rain.

  “What?!” she heard, but she didn’t turn.

  The rain actually felt good. True wetness was heads and above better than the humid sweat that was more usual in this part of the world. It was even slightly cool. She was glad she hadn’t worn a white t-shirt herself, although her flowered button-down shirt was instantly plastered to her skin as well. Underneath, she wore skimpy little shorts over a thong bikini.

  “You must come with,” Jen had said when she was talking Tina into this vacation. “You’re not getting any younger and you never go anywhere.”

  True. Tina had decided she was altogether too careful. Time for an adventure.

  And he stood before her suddenly.

  As if he felt her approach, he glanced over his shoulder. She smiled as she joined him at the rail. Below, she could barely make out where the surf ended and the rain-soaked air began. Waves thundered in their ears. Terrifying and beautiful to someone who didn’t swim very well and didn’t touch ocean water as a general rule.

  “Wanted to see what you were so fascinated by?” she yelled, straining to be heard over the surf.

  She squinted up at him through the rain, judging his reaction. Did he want her here? Should she leave him alone?

  But he grinned and gestured at the surf. “Can’t get much better than this.” His voice sounded beautiful, even over the thunderous noise.

  “You must certainly like water,” she commented.

  “If she could, my mother would have given birth to me in the ocean,” he laughed, tossing his head to whip drenched hair from his eyes. When dry, it must have reached to his shoulders. Wet, it was just a bit longer. Blonde, she decided, or a very light brown.

  And he was beautiful in face as well, much more so than she’d seen from the coffee shop. He had that sweet, California surfer type of look, one of the Beach Boys gone scruffy while he was still young. He was maybe in his early twenties, certainly no older than 25 or so. Much younger than her own 30 years.

  Perhaps she should retreat.

  “Are you a water lover too?” he asked.

  Now, why did such a simple, innocent question set that fire to slow simmer between her legs. Perhaps it was the instant picture of what those powerful arms and leg could do wrapped around her while they were immersed in water. Surely her fear of water would subside with that to keep her safe?

  “I have an appreciation for the beauty,” she said, realizing that she could now speak in a normal voice. The torrent had eased to a spattering. “But I don’t think you could call me a fish.”

  “Do you swim?”

  “Marginally.”

  His smile was seductive. Did he mean it to be?

  “Care to take a walk with me?”

  Images flashed through her head. He was a serial killer and this was his way of getting her alone. He wanted to test her swimming skills by dragging her into the water and holding her down. He wanted to take her to a secluded cove, remove her clothes, and fuck her to the heights of abandon.

  She concentrated on the last a she planted a big smile on her mouth and nodded.

  He introduced himself as Cutter as they descended the wooden steps down to the sand.

  Stepping onto the sand, she was surprised at how packed it was. Of course, it had been raining pretty hard for the better part of an hour. Cutter immediately bent to remove his Burkinstocks then gallantly offered to hold her hand while she removed her sandals.

  “You can’t walk in the sand with shoes on,” he told her firmly. “There just isn’t anything like feeling sand between your toes.”

  To her, it was somewhat creepy, but she determined to make the best of it. Besides, it was quite nice to hold his arm as she removed her sandals.

  “Do you live around here?” she asked.

  “Nah,” he said. “On vacation. I’m from California.”

  She couldn’t hide her smirk.

  “I know, I know, typical California dude,” he said, adopting the “surfer dude” accent and even flashing the “hang loose” sign with his free hand. “Blonde and blue eyed and a real surfer to boot. I’ve dealt with it my whole life.”

  “Come now, it can’t be that bad. Not unless people ask you to start singing Beach Boy tunes.”

  With a grin, he started to hum “Help me, Rhonda” and they both laughed. He had a marvelous laugh, full and rich, and his eyes crinkled quite charmingly.

  “Where are you from?” he asked, bending to pick up an interesting rock.

  “Nevada,” she answered, watching him chuck it into the waves.

  The rain was almost gone, the sky still overcast except for a brilliant slash of blue over the horizon which was dripping golden rays of sunlight.

  “Vegas?”

  “Not really.”

  “I guess there’s more to the state,” he acknowledged with a grin. “And you don’t seem the gambling type.”

  “No, I’m a showgirl.”

  He stopped to stare and she giggled. “Just kidding.” Tina was all of five feet tall and not nearly the long, leggy showgirl type.

  “You’re pretty enough to be one,” he stated as though it were fact and he was not just flattering her.

  She blushed. “That’s very kind of you.”

  She risked a glance back up at him and was strangely thrilled to find his eyes fastened on her breasts. They were her one vain feature, the 38D cups looking even larger on her small figure. And they were natural, a gift from her well-endowed grandmother.

  He saw her catch him and looked away in a rush. She thought he might actually have blushed.

  They continued to walk a bit in silence, enjoying the waning day. The rain stopped altogether, although clouds still threatened overhead.

  They were quite a bit away from the pier now, although it was still in sight. There was not much habitation about that pier, and certainly none of it was around the huge black rocks toward which they were headed.

  One behemoth of a rock stood half in the surf and half on the shore, a natural arch carved through its center. Her walking companion trotted up the rocks into the arch and stood there a moment. She caught her breath, watching him silhouetted against the bright horizon sky. His drying hair was proving to be curly and was becoming a mass of tight waves atop his head. She thought he looked very much like the statue of David. With clothes on, darn the luck!

  He turned toward her with a grin, extending a hand. She realized he meant for her to join him up there. She gave a wary look to the loose rocks.

  With another “What the hell” she scrambled up, judiciously using his support.

&n
bsp; At the crest, she stumbled and he put out both hands to steady her. This close, she fell slightly against him and couldn’t suppress the gasp as her chest met his. He was all muscle beneath that shirt and now she dearly wanted to know if he had that wonderfully silken male skin covering those muscles.

  Their accidental embrace lingered. She didn’t want to let go and he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to do so either.

  Finally she looked up into his face. His face was shadowed, his back to the sun, but she saw the hungry glint in those darkened blue eyes well enough. It sang to the growling she felt within her own belly.

  His lips alighted on hers, softly, gently. The slight stubble growth was a striking contrast to the softness of his lips. She wondered what a picture they made, framed by Mother Nature’s arch.

  He pulled up from the kiss to search her eyes again. “Should I be sorry I did that?” he asked.

  She couldn’t help the grin. “I’m not.”

  He matched the grin. “Good. Mind if I do it again?”

  “Not at all.”

  He fell into the kiss with gusto, taking her breath way as he enfolded her in his muscular embrace.

  He stumbled slightly, unable to keep them steady on the loose rocks. “Let’s get down from here,” he said.

  She yelped when he swung her up to carry her baby-style to the sand beyond the arch. “This isn’t necessary,” she laughed, winding her arms about his neck.

  “No, but you’re such a little thing.” He got caught eyeing her breasts again. This time, he only smiled acknowledgment. “A pretty little thing.”

  “You make me sound like a doll.”

  “A living, breathing, beautifully gorgeous doll.”

  “Oh, you’ll do just fine,” she told him.

  Laughing, he carried her toward the water.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, stiffening. Those waves still looked very rough.

  “Just to the edge of the water,” he assured her. “I promise.”

  Good to his promise, he set her down just where the water was lapping the sand. Keeping hold of her hand, he was able to drag her down to his lap when he sat there in the water.

  Not sure about his decision of place, she decided to make do when he started to kiss her again. Hands free, his fingers could now wander under her shirt to her bikini top. He played about outside the skimpy thing for a bit as he kissed her thoroughly. She knew he wanted more, could tell by his familiar reaction to her breasts.

  Pulling back from the kiss, she unbuttoned the two buttons of her shirt then reached her own hand to one of the bikini cups and pulled it aside. His breath caught in his throat as he stared a moment at her nipple, which was caramel brown and jutting hard. She cupped the breast in her own hand and made an offering of it to him.

  He took the offering gratefully, bending to lick at the nipple with a pointed tongue. She sighed at his attentions, wondering how much could be seen from the pier so far behind her. Not much, she thought. That group of rocks with the arch probably hid them very well.

  With her free hand, she pulled at his shirt at the back until she had it almost to his shoulders. The surface of his skin was cool from the wet, but underneath was hard warmth. And his skin was indeed smooth and silky.

  “Take this off,” she demanded gruffly.

  Reluctantly, he dragged his mouth away from her breast to give himself room to remove his shirt. She used the moment to shed her own shirt.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed, feasting his eyes on her breasts.

  Made bold by his ardent attentions, she shifted her position until she sat in the cradle of his legs, straddling him, her pelvis pressed to his. A marvelously large erection was there to greet her.

  “So are you,” she told him before firmly taking possession of his mouth with hers.

  Her bikini top joined their shirts so his hands could have free rein to her breasts. Damp hands toyed with her nipples, his nails raking them gently to torment her. And still, the waves lapped at them.

  As their kissing grew more heated, his hand strayed down her belly to the damp triangle between her legs. She groaned, which made him bolder. His fingers twitched aside the flimsy fabric of her shorts and wormed under the fabric of her bikini briefs to find her gooey, warm folds. Her moan of longing shook her entire body.

  “I’d love to fuck you,” he muttered against her momentarily incapable lips.

  “Oh yes,” she shuddered.

  Hastily, she stood, just long enough to shed shorts and briefs. Beneath her, he scrambled out of his own shorts to reveal a gloriously long, angrily purple erection.

  As he leaned back to toss their clothes further back from the water line, she knelt in the waves and took the thing in both hands. Shocked, he went stock still, but she had eyes only for the single hole of the mushroom head which cried a large drop of pearly cum.

  The moment she closed her lips lovingly about that mushroom head, waves laving her exposed sex between her kneeling legs, the rain began again. She felt the patters on her back as she lovingly licked the length of his cock, swirling her tongue with particular attention about the sensitive end. The groans she heard from him were truly wonderful and only incited her to lavish more upon his straining member.

  “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop that,” he warned her.

  Indeed, she felt the shivering in his body and made a quick decision. It would actually be exciting to have this lovely stranger come in her mouth, but that might deprive her of plunging that thick, hard rod into her achingly empty pussy.

  The chilly water on her sex made her decision.

  With one last lap at the head of his cock, she shifted up. She nearly cried in gratitude as he hastily sheathed his cock with a condom he must have fished from his shorts. Bless him! Once done, he obligingly held his swollen member upright for her as she, balancing with her hands on his strong shoulders, positioned her pussy lips atop it.

  “Oh God,” he groaned, as she slid inch by delicious inch down his shaft. It was slow as her tight walls had to continually adjust to accommodate. Soon enough, her pussy rested on his clutching hand. He released his member but kept his hand in the vicinity to rub her clitoris.

  “Ahhh!” she sighed as she finally came to rest, that marvelous organ shoved all the way up inside her. His free hand provided support on her lower back.

  And it started to rain harder.

  Ample lubrication she had from both within and without as she began to ride her newfound lover. Water streamed from her hair down her back to trickle through the crack of her ass. Water shimmered on her lover’s chest, flattening the spattering of fine blonde hair there.

  She pulled closer to him to feel their dripping chests rub together. Heavy salt water lapped again and again at her bouncing bottom, a sharp contrast to the hot waves which built within her.

  His arms encircled her, one hand buried deep in her wet hair to guide her lips to his. She was too distracted to kiss thoroughly, but she enjoyed the touch of mouth to mouth as she picked up speed.

  She was a dolphin riding the waves. She was an eel sluicing through the deep down. She was a jellyfish, mindlessly expanding and surging. She was an octopus, all grabbing legs to bring her chosen prey to the little mouth within the legs. She was coral whipping out to grasp floating food and withdrawing to eat. She was the wind, she was the rain, she was the clouds, she was the waves, she was...

  “Ahhhhh!” she screamed, body shuddering as she lost all motor control. Thought escaped in pure, blinding ecstacy. Barely, she heard an answering yell from the man she ruthlessly rode. Up, up, up. Water, fire, air and earth. Everything expanded and contracted until for one brief nanosecond, she understood the meaning of life.

  The world returned gradually. She was enveloped in warm arms. Her cheek rested on a bare, muscular shoulder. Her hands were wandering of their own accord over the sleek muscles of his back. Even spent, his cock was still buried within her, unable to escape because of their tight embrace. The heartb
eat within the chest pressed to hers beat the same staccato.

  Finally, she had to move. She could see their clothes in the sand, threatened by the ever-encroaching waves. Salt water almost immersed their hips in its chilly embrace. The rain had stopped again.

  She pulled back to look into her lover’s face. She hoped her expression looked as happy and sated as his so he could feel the same leap of joy as she. His lazy grin told her it must.

  “That’s the most spectacular thing that’s ever happened to me,” she announced, unashamed.

  “Me too,” he confessed.

  “But I think we should get up now.”

  He agreed. They slowly stood on wobbly legs.

  As she retrieved her clothes, he waded into the water and ducked under. She had brief image of him disappearing into the waves with only the shirt, shorts and sandals to remind her of what had just happened. But then he re-emerged, an Atalantean demi-god rising naked from the sea.

  “I was afraid you’d disappear while I was in the water,” he confessed as she handed him his clothes.

  She laughed. “I thought you’d disappear in the water.”

  His grin was devilish. “Since we’re both still here, what do you say we make the most of it?”

  She smiled a promise. “Yes. But only if we can find a bed this time.”

  He took the shorts from her. “Yours or mine?”

 

 

  Jet Mykles, Rain and Sand

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