Beneath the shade of the gazebo, your skin’s sensitivity contrasts acutely where one breast is concealed in shade while the other remains fully exposed to the heat, heaving with your sigh under the golden light.

The sunlight presses down with a physical heat and weight, one that seems to press the firm youth of your breast like the palm of a lover, the light splashes of scattered water, aching to absorb the sun’s energy, the rays brazenly melting each droplet and leaving the skin salty, as if soaked in seductive kisses.

Gravity pulls, and more and more the tide rides higher, the warm water coming closer, caressing, enveloping; pushing its weight against you. 

Instinctively you clench, and release; tiny muscles, abdominal, pelvic, glutinous; clenching at nothing, urging, aching, wanting; feeling the solid fluid motion rocking against you.

The soft, salt-heavy warm water glides around your calves, soothing, stroking, wetting the skin, diffusing the sunlight, reaching up under the tender of your thighs.

Long strokes seduce the surface of your supple bronze-oiled skin, the weight of each wave palming against the inside of your thighs, inching the length of you, licking the smooth-silky-dry-heat of your long toned legs.

You relish the lapping at the tender youth of your flesh, giving yourself freely to the soothing cool, the lush sensations that come with every fresh push of the clear blue water.

Wave upon wave, gentle and firm, lusting farther and further, sending sensual sensations, teasing at your tiniest, most intimate muscles, coaxing them to clench and release, growing rapid and urgent with anticipation, wanting, willing, impatiently waiting for the weight of the water to take more of you.

Your senses are flooding with delight as every retreating wave gives way to the majesty of the golden Mediterranean sunlight, her rays drenching you, and you wrestle with not wanting to rush the certain return of the tide surging.

Delighting in the ocean’s withdrawal, as the chrome-yellow rays of sunlight ignite against every droplet of water, feeling them scatter across you, like mercury, silver and sliding, saline and sensual, cascading over the surface of your aching beauty.

These seductive sensations heighten. The warm spice-scented breeze brushes cool-warmth over you, pushing these tiny discarded droplets of salted-sea further up the insides of your thighs. Puckering the flesh with a goose-bumping ache, offering an invitation for fresh waves to rush the beach, your senses urging for the tide to rise and ride higher, to come further forward, to come sooth and consume more of your secrets.

Your hips begin to shift, unbalanced by tiny desirous movements, wriggling, their motion pulled with excitement, clenching with intimacy, the cool, warm, salt air, a perceptible breath, breathing heat, whispering over you, with barely an inch of your inner thigh remaining untouched by the soaking of the sea.

Between your thighs the warmth of the salt sea breeze presses, provoking passion, reminding you of the approaching breath of a deeply intimate lover, when you’re wet with wanting him, waiting to feel his kiss come closer, his mouth moaning love for you, pressing the promise of his lips and tongue deeply into the beauty of your unfolding.

Your labial lips tingle with anticipation and excitement, aching for the touch, filled with a wanting for the same sensations, those that come with such a kiss.

And you shudder as the warm salted sea water pushes up, filling the last inch of intimacy left between your thighs, the silky surf lapping like a hungry lover, lusting for you.

Then mourning with the weight of the water withdrawing, the tide pulling back to regain strength and renewed momentum. You groan for the return, feeling the abandoning swell of the warm water pull away, the soaking caress slipping from every intimate surface of your skin, embraced by the scented air of the salt sea breeze that never ceases to bless and tease.

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