A beachside vacation leads to a memorable sapphic encounter…

Photo by Fausto García on Unsplash

Her skin felt warm against my arm, her body-heat rising as the two of us lay there on our backs, looking up at the mirrored ceiling, naked except for our bikini bottoms. A soft ocean breeze ruffled the thin white drapes, and a seagull cried outside.

She was pretty, with alabaster skin and pert breasts. Her hand rested upon my thigh, soft and undemanding. There had been nothing else yet, no kiss, no caress, no other expression of our ardour, yet I could already smell the aroma of our combined arousal permeating the air.

I had not expected to find myself here, now, beside this bewitching vixen. Had not imagined that a chance conversation with this fellow beach-goer would lead to her returning with me to my room, knowing but never speaking out loud of the physical attraction that was pulling us like magnets.

I felt her hand slide down to cup my mound, tentatively. I responded by reaching my hand over to the same spot between her own legs. Mirroring each other, we slowly massaged and rubbed, then she slid her hand inside my bikini bottoms and stroked my wet slit with expert fingers. I copied her actions, feeling the hot slick of her cunt beneath the white lycra.

We lay, watching each other in the mirror’s reflection, attuned to the sounds of each other’s wetness, each hitched breath and soft moan. In unison, we reached our free hands up to our breasts, and copied each caress, pinch, flick. The sensation of my nipples distending as I rolled and pinched them firmly between thumb and forefinger sent electric sparks down to my clit, already plump and needy from her touch.

She opened her legs wider, allowing my hand to dip lower, and for my finger to penetrate the damp lips of her cunt. I, too, let my thighs drop open, and felt her middle digit slip inside my pulsating pussy, my vulva throbbing a heavy beat as my whole engorged sex dripped with desire. With synchronous movements we fingered each other, wriggling our hips, grinding wet cunts against sticky fingers, kneading breasts and pinching at nipples, all the while staring at each other’s reflection in the ceiling mirror.

The sensation of her palm rubbing against my clit tipped me over the edge, and I moved my hand insistently inside her bikini, desperate for the two of us to climax together. I heard her moan thickly, and then felt her pussy clenching and contracting around my thrusting finger, the rich wet fluid of her cunt oozing into my hand. Meanwhile, my hips bucked and writhed as she used the heel of her hand to pull my labia back, exposing my screaming clit to the full touch of her palm while her finger fucked my hole. I came with a squeal, my nipples tingling and puckering. All I could think of was how much I wanted her mouth on my tits right now, how good her slippery pussy felt in the cup of my hand.

The smell of our damp musk was strong, a warm tang that overpowered the scent of the sea breeze. We descended from the heaven of orgasm, hands still resting gently on each other’s pussy. I wondered if she would stay longer, to let me slip those bikini bottoms down her legs, pull open her thighs, and bury my tongue in the bubbling wet cavern of her sex. I wondered if she would let me bend her over and lick the little bud of her tight asshole.

She turned her head towards me now, our reflected gaze now broken, and smiled. Immediately, I knew that the answer to all my questions was yes. With a wink, I removed my hand from between her legs, taking a moment to suck her liquid from my digits, and kissed her warm open mouth. This was going to be one hot summer vacation.

That first night with her was a revelation, an education in sexual pleasure. After our languorous mutual masturbation we had lain there kissing slowly. Her mouth tasted sweet. It was unlike the kisses of a man; neither better nor worse, just different, and exciting in its newness. Her lips were softer, her tongue gentle as it probed my mouth, grazed over my teeth and lips, and moved sinuously against my own.

As she explored my mouth, I cupped her beautiful ass in my hands and pulled at her bikini bottoms. She was so wet that I could practically hear the sound of the material pulling away from the creamy slick at her crotch as I slid the lycra down. She moaned into my mouth, and brought one of her hands to my breast. Kneading and pulling at my nipples with one hand, she used the other to help slide her bikini all the way down, then lowered her head to my breasts.

She kissed and licked my flesh, and I was transfixed by the reflected image of our bodies playing out on the ceiling above. When her humid mouth closed on my nipple, it was like a taser-jolt of electricity to my pussy. My clit pulsed and twitched, and I could feel the liquid evidence of my desire overflowing from between my throbbing labia. Her tongue laved over my puckering buds, flicking the erect nipples and sucking them into hard, pink peaks.

When her licks and kisses began to travel further down, over my solar plexus, dipping into my navel, and tracing the waistband of my bikini, I moaned and feathered my fingers through her long hair. She looked up at me with a lusciously wicked look in her eyes as she pulled my final covering down my legs, then caressed my thighs and held them open adoringly.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied, wantonly. “Please lick me.”

She let her tongue emerge from between her lips and wiggled it at me playfully before dipping her head between my legs and lapping at my damp, desperate cunt.

It was sublime, pure heavenly bliss. She knew just how to lick me, where to go firm, and where to flick lightly. Her tongue moved up each of my pussy lips, occasionally plunging her tongue between them and tasting the fluid that was now spilling from me in hot, musky rivulets. She teased the firm bud of my clitoris, and sucked the surrounding petals hungrily. I caressed her head and held her to me, and when she increased the pace of her tongue on my clit, I howled and thrust my cunt against her mouth.

I watched us in the mirror’s reflection. The sight of myself writhing beneath this sensual goddess, helpless under her skillful mouth and pushing my yearning pussy into her face was the hottest, most erotic and dirty thing to me and it drove me closer to the edge.

“Yes, yes……” I whined, and with her tongue licking insistently at my clit, I came. It was like a firework going off deep in my cervix, a thousand lightning bolts striking inside my brain. The pleasure was so intense that I arched my whole body up and cried as I climaxed.

She held her tongue still as I reached my final spasms, her mouth lightly pressed against my sodden flesh, tasting the tangy ambrosia of my orgasm. She slid up my body, her skin warm and sweaty against my own, and kissed me. I savoured the blend of her sweet kiss and the flavour of my cunt, and lay back in languid delight as she made love to my open mouth.

When my breathing evened and I regained the use of my muscles, I edged her onto her back, and lowered myself over her supine form. With a smile and a soft press of my lips against her clavicle, I murmured, “My turn now…”

Five days we had together, before our respective holiday breaks were over and we had to say goodbye. But we made the most of it. I was absolutely enthralled by her; by her smooth skin, her soft mouth, her alabaster breasts, her beautiful bottom, her luscious cunt. I could have happily drowned between her legs, imbibing the sweet fragrant nectar from her sex like a hungry hummingbird lapping at a honeysuckle flower.

One heady evening, as the sun sank over the ocean and the din of seagulls rang outside the window, we had interlocked our open legs and she pressed her soft, damp pussy to mine. I still remember the glorious sensation of her nether lips kissing my own damp petals, the wet sounds of our flesh moving together rich and succulent. She scissored against me slowly, grasping my thigh, while I gripped her hip, her buttock, her breasts. Each time her clit rubbed mine, the two of us moaned, and it wasn’t long before we were grinding against each other with violent abandon, our open, desperate cunts dripping and salivating as we pulsed and twitched and rode each other to loud and vocal orgasms.

The following day, we had been coaxed out of the hotel room by a fierce need for food and, after a lazy lunch of fish and chips on the beach, we’d wandered hand in hand along the high street. I was very self-conscious when she first reached for my hand. I felt conspicuous, and worried that we would attract disapproving stares. I soon realised, however, that there were plenty of same-sex couples wandering openly and proudly along the street, and that the only person with any hang-up was me. I relaxed at once, enjoying the frisson I felt from our interlaced fingers and playful, conspiratorial smiles.

Down a side-street off the main drag, we found a sex shop, and I dragged her inside, surprised by my sudden and uncharacteristic bravado. We giggled as we wandered amongst the sexy underwear, leather crops, and dildos that ranged from cute and sparkly to intimidating and eye-watering.

I was browsing through their range of flavoured lubes when she sidled up beside me with what looked like a jock-strap. When she held it against her hips and wriggled, I realised that it was a strap-on harness. I felt the heat rising in me immediately, as I imagined her thrusting into me, her beautiful breasts bouncing with every exquisite motion. She must have seen the blush in my cheeks, or the fire in my eyes, because she smiled wickedly, grasped my hand and dragged me over to the display of dildos. She stood behind me, her body pressed against me, and murmured in my ear, “Choose the weapon, you naughty, dirty girl.”

By the time we made our way back to the hotel with our bag of toys, I was so wet with anticipation that I had soaked right through the crotch of my knickers. I loved the slippery sensation I got with each step, and climbing the steps up to the inside foyer nearly made me cry out, as the creamy slick rubbed against my throbbing clit.

Back in the room, we had barely shut the door behind us before we were in each other’s arms, passionately kissing and pulling off our clothes, consumed with urgent lust. I unbuttoned her denim shorts with fevered fingers, and pulled them and her tiny thong down to her ankles, hungrily kissing her breasts and her mound as I went. I could smell the aroma of her arousal rising in my nostrils: she was as wet as I was, and I let my tongue tease her slippery folds before I stood upright again and returned to her mouth.

After several long, sensual kisses, she reached into the bag and drew out the harness and dildo. I unpackaged the dildo while she made sense of the harness, and we fell about in giggles a couple of times as the two of us assembled our toy. But once she was fully equipped, gripped her sparkly pink “cock” and drawled, “Now I’m going to fuck you just like you’ve been picturing all afternoon,” we both stopped giggling and I sank to my knees before her. I don’t really know why, but I wanted to suck her dick. I knew, of course, that it was just a silicone toy, but there was something so sensual, so beautifully submissive, in the action of taking it into my mouth.

She seemed to get the same thrill, as she caressed my hair, drew me in closer, and whispered, “Yes, my darling. Suck it. Make it good and wet.”

I laved it up and down with my tongue, sank my mouth onto it again and again as she stood there in a powerfully assertive pose, her back straight, her faux-phallus jutting out proudly from her groin. When her shaft was glistening wet with my spit, she lifted me to my feet and led us both to the bed. I lay on my back, my legs open wide. I caught site of myself in the ceiling mirror. My pussy lips were flushed almost red. I looked so wanton lying there, spread, while she knelt before me and rubbed the dildo up and down my slit. She teased the head of her silicone cock between my labia, then up over my clit. The engorged nub was pounding by now, almost painfully. Up and down, she slid, not yet entering me but just toying with me, building my anticipation, making me sopping wet and wriggling with the hunger.

“Please,” I begged, writhing and twisting desperately. “Oh please, please now.”

With a gentle smile, she sank into me slowly, and the slight curve at the top of the dildo immediately grazed my g-spot. I shrieked, and she thrust again, penetrating me with leisurely, deep motions that had me groaning, panting and grabbing handfuls of bedding in my shaking grip.

I watched her fucking me. She was gloriously beautiful. She had one hand on her hip, the other hand on my thigh, and the sheen of perspiration on her body made her glisten like a goddess. She angled into me with such perfect precision that I felt like I was losing my rational mind and getting lost in an ecstatic world of swirling colours, fireworks and ego-less abandon. There was nothing else in existence but the sensation, the sounds, the smells of our sex. When she reached her hand to cup my mound, slid her thumb against my clitoral hood and began stoking my pearl slowly but firmly in time with her languorous thrusts, my whole cunt seemed to explode in a shimmering cornucopia of heat and liquid, and I came harder than I had ever cum before, or have ever cum since.

“Yes, darling,” I heard her praise me, as she reared back on her haunches, allowing my fluids to burst forth. When the contractions eased and my pussy had stopped erupting, she slid the cock back inside me and fucked me harder this time. She groaned in unison with my orgasmic wails.

“Oh, god, the harness is hitting my clit,” she moaned, as she fucked me hard and fast. “It feels so fucking good.”

In a haze of sensation and iridescent bliss, I could hear myself chanting “Yes” and “oh god!” and “fuck me” over and over, like some filthy mantra. We fucked, and came, and fucked and came for hours. Her wondrous cock never tired. I don’t know at what point we collapsed in each other’s arms, but I remember waking up in the early hours to find her head nuzzled in my neck, and I lay there for ages, stroking her hair and sprinkling gentle kisses on her forehead. I think I fell in love with her in those quiet moments, and when she came to and blinked up at me with her sleepy eyes, I cupped her chin and drew her in for a soft and reverent kiss.

I took my turn wielding the cock later that day, and she had me penetrate her from behind whilst slapping her bottom. I can still remember the vivid image of her ass bouncing, deliciously red and inviting, while the pink dildo thrust between her puffy pussy lips and emerged glistening with her rich liqueur.

Whenever I have trouble reaching a climax, but don’t want my husband to feel hurt that he hasn’t made me cum, I call on the image of Ashley, and remember all the pleasures I shared with her. Ashley, my beautiful beach babe and the most exquisite lover I ever had. I often think of her, and wonder what might have happened if I hadn’t had to leave Brighton and return to Manchester for my wedding. I suppose I should be thankful that I got to experience such incredible sexual delights before settling down with Ted and our lovely, but sadly unexciting sex-life. But I miss Ash. I still miss her terribly.

The End.

***

Oh and in case you were wondering, the harness went home with Ash, but the dildo came home with me….

Photo by Roberto Nickson on Unsplash

Jupiter Grant is a self-published author, blogger, narrator and audiobook producer.

Enquiries and comments are always welcome. You can also find me on Twitter @GrantJupiter

“Reflect, Lick, Penetrate” is comprised of three short stories originally published at https://jupiterslair.com/

Written by

Erotica writer, Audiobook Narrator / Producer, Freelancer, Blogger. Physically residing in London, UK, but spending most of my time living inside my own head.

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