Nils thought if Jamie wore her lace top out on the beach, an interesting suntan might result. “What about the bottom?” Jamie wonders. Nils hands her an orange belt. With a grin, Jamie says, “Fine, as long as you go stark naked.”

Unfortunately it rained. “Too bad,” Jamie says.

“Yes,” Nils agrees. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“But you could paint a picture of us in the sun,” Jamie suggests.

“I could,” Nils says, “if you give me explicit instructions.”

“Explicit, huh?” Jamie says, that grin returning to her face. “Okay, the way I picture it, I’m wearing the orange belt and the lace top, and the sun is beating down. You’re lying on the sand, but there’s no way I want any sand in my puss.”

“Seems fair,” Nils says.

“Fair and necessary,” Jamie says.

“So then we...”

“Not yet,” Jamie says. “First I do some beach walking. Enjoying the sun, the clean, fresh air. The cute little shore birds skittering through the surf.”

“And what about me?” Nils asks.

“You? Just like now you get a bit impatient.”

“Me, impatient?”

“Yes. You can’t help picturing what is to come, and you start touching yourself. You try to hold off. No hard stroking. You just lightly run your fingertips up the seam of your stem.”

“The seam of my stem, huh?”

“Yeah, your lovely big cock. Which is stretching straight up toward the sun, and the sun is enjoying the view, as am I, and it isn’t too long before the sun and your fingers coax a hint of cream up from the cute penis slit.”

“Cute is it?”

“Adorable,” Jamie confirms. “And now I have to decide whether to wait and watch it geyser up. That would be fun. Or whether I should kneel and take a taste or two or ten. That would be delicious. Or whether I should straddle and sit and fuck. Decisions, decisions.”