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Finally she released and slid back up to face him, giving him a huge smile and placing her head on his chest. “We’ve still got eight minutes… what do you want to do?” She looked up at him from her place on his chest, something that seemed so natural and pleasing to Michael that he needed to give her the same thing she had given him. “I’ve got a few ideas…” Michael wrapped a hand around her back and slid her up his chest so that he could kiss her, ignoring the hint of cum that he could taste on her tongue. Her lips tasted like cherries… Chap Stick he realized. He hadn’t noticed it before. He rolled her over onto her back and moved back down to her breasts for just a minute before sliding down to her shorts and yanking them down. She gasped as his fingers probed at her slit, and cried out in pleasure as his lips met hers. She proceeded to thrash as he pushed his tongue deep inside of her, reaching depths that his curious fingers had failed to reach. As a novice Michael. I tidied my long bob of light brown hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was regarding my form; all too easy to see through the too thin, blue checked gingham dress, to the dark shadow covering half my torso beneath. I walked into the direct sunlight towards the railings and stepped up onto the lower rail. Looking at the waves crashing onto the beach, a turbulent gust caught my dress, billowing and sending it upward on the breeze until I felt its coolness kiss the bare flesh just above the waistband, the hem of the dress settled briefly there before dropping back over my voluminous navy blue knickers. After several minutes of the wind repeating this movement with colourful variation, I stepped off the rail and returned to the shelter's bench. The man now seemed rather uncomfortable. Perhaps it's that that hard seat! He seemed to have moved a little toward the centre. I sat down and twisted back into my position on the end of the bench, facing him with my knees.
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