Hi there!
For my first letter, I’d like to share Wood on the Beach, a little flash-fiction fantasy. If you’re a Medium member please consider reading it on the site. (I’m addicted to reads and claps. They’re better than Gold Stars!) If you found me some other way, great! I hope you enjoy the story!
Love Rebel
https://medium.com/@rebelrainewrites/wood-on-the-beach-d5bf844165aa
Wood on the Beach
A Little Fantasy
The soft, dry sand is deliciously warm on my belly and thighs. The view is perfect — and I don’t mean the ocean.
Three on three beach volleyball — six, tanned and fit male bodies to ogle from my semi-private spot between two jutting rock formations.
I press my hips deeper into the sand, and the miracle of nature I’ve just discovered.
It was by accident or pure luck that the cock-shaped piece of driftwood found me. My intentions were innocent enough when I chose this spot. The wood seemed to rise right up out of the sand as if drawn by my scent. Or was it my restless wriggling that brought it out? Either way, it’s here, pressed against the front of my bikini bottoms.
After close examination, I’ve decided that the blond is my favorite. His tanned abs are ripped. A trail of golden hair starts at his navel and disappears under the waist of blue and white swim trunks, that dip dangerously low in front.
I walk over, drop to my knees in front of him, and use my teeth to undo the tie that holds up his trunks. His cock springs up. While the other five men watch with envy, I take him in my mouth, and swirl my tongue around the head, searching for a taste of all he has to offer…
With one hand I reach beneath my hips and turn the wood so that the narrow side is up. It parts my lips right through the material, fitting between them perfectly. I turn my head to one side, resting my cheek on the T-shirt I’m using as a pillow. Eyes closed I rock my hips from side to side, a subtle movement I’m certain no passerby can detect.
Nestled in its bed of cream, my clit is as hard as the wood jostling it back and forth.
The blond kneels beside me, tells me my skin is burning, and without asking permission, slathers my bare ass with sunscreen.
Lower, I tell him. More. His fingers slip under the edge of my bottoms. I adjust my hips slightly to allow access. One finger, and then two, slide deep inside of me, curving around to the front, pressing my clit from the inside.
I spread my legs as far as I dare, move my hips a little faster, and press down a little harder on the wood. I have to bite my lip to keep my cry inside as the orgasm rips through me.
A short time later I pull my shorts on over my sopping wet bottoms, gather up my belongings and stuff them into my tote bag. I toss the driftwood in as a memento of my solo day at the beach.
When I walk past the volleyball game the blond smiles, “Hi.”
I return the smile. “Thank you.”