Have You Any Dreams You’d Like to Sell

If you listened carefully, you could hear the lapping of the waves against the dock, their endless caressing of it like a lover’s tongue. The rhythmic waves too would run their fingers of foamy water upon the beach, then gently withdraw.

We camped on the beach, the small fire originally for some warmth, then a modicum of light as the sun dipped and left us to the pinpricks of starlight. Stevie had her eyes closed, but she wasn’t asleep, no doubt some lyrics nuzzling her amazing brain, hoping for some freedom. But it wouldn’t be tonight. No, the birth of any lyrics would need to wait for another, because tonight would be just for us, one final hurrah. It didn’t mean that some didn’t come to mind, at least for me.

In the stillness of remembering what you had, and, what you lost...

“Did you say something?” It was Stevie, eyes not open, but talking to me. I must have mumbled the words.

“No babe, just some lyrics, you know.” She smiled. She knew.

“Bux? Come here.” It was half request, half command. We both knew it would come to this, tonight, coming here. It had to.

I moved closer on the blanket and she rolled toward me, her hand coming to my face, eyes never opening, lips not needing sight to find my mouth. Her tongue spent little time reacquainting with my lips, instead moving into my mouth and, finding its oral dance partner, began a mambo. I knew it was going to be a hot night, and this aggressiveness on her part was proof. More lyrics crashed the party as I started to harden.

Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom. Well, who am I to keep you down?

Stevie rolled on top of me, then broke the kiss by sitting up. With one swift action, she pulled the house dress up and over her head, silver-dollar-sized areolae surrounding very erect nipples. My thumb and forefingers shot to them, pulling, tweaking, eliciting that throaty moan that I’d heard so many times.

My shirt was next, a throwaway I guess as she ripped it down the middle, then dove for my chest, her pouty lips encircling a nipple, tongue washing across it, and teeth grabbing hold. I wince at the pain/pleasure and a jolt went straight to my cock, it was fully erect. She could feel it, and nakedly she wiggled, partially because I was pinching her nipples a little harder, partially because, despite our problems, she did love my cock.

“Come here,” and that’s all the invite she needed as she crawled up my body, her torso straddling my head and neck, but all I saw was heaven’s gate: bush and pinkness. I began lapping.

She’s gently rocked, not wanting to lose contact with my tongue. She played with her nipples now, eyes closed, mewling something almost inaudible as I took my time, lifting her higher and higher.