Hnnng, you almost fucking melt when she whispers in your ear, groaning and bucking into her body, your teeth grazing hungrily on her neck. Patience, Zeph, you horny bastard. You still have to get off the goddamn beach, unless you want to be pulling sand out of your pubes for a week.
Looks like she's got a creative way to kill two birds with one stone. Obediently you let her step away, moving your arms down to her hips as hers both reach around your shoulder. A raised eyebrow asks wait, are you really going to-? and then a grunt and a laugh answers oh, yup, you did. Your right arm protests to the added weight but it's a fly buzzing against the enthusiasm of having her in your arms.
"Creative solutions," you laugh before she's got your mouth sealed up again and it takes every bit of your concentration to continue kissing her while walking toward the nearby copse of trees. You don't even make it properly under them, stopping at the first one and pressing her against its trunk as you move your left hand over her thigh, the right one beginning to work on the buttons of her blouse.
Zephyr
you can be the ripest, juciest peach in the world
and there's still going to be someone who hates peaches
and there's still going to be someone who hates peaches
