Taste of Sun and Sea

"Taste of Sun and Sea," first appeared in author Alyssa Brooks' newsletter, Wicked Escapes. It has also appeared on the website for author Sable (www.bysable.com).


                                                 *****



I’m floating. Drifting on a tide of light, lulled by the crash and murmur of the waves.

It’s easy to lose yourself here. Easy to lose the flow of time entirely in heat that presses like a hand, in crystalline sunlight on white sand and turquoise water.

I’ve become a cat, fat and lazy in the summer sun.

I open my eyes when I hear the splash of running feet. Gage jogs toward me, his surfboard tucked under one arm. I watch him, enchanted as always by the sight. Lean muscles shift under tanned skin, tangled sun-bleached curls drip seawater on slightly reddened shoulders. After more than five years together, he’s still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

He plants his board in the sand and smiles down at me. “Hi, Aiden.”

“Hello, gorgeous. Finished surfing already?” From my vantage point, flat on my back on a big beach towel, he looks like a god: tall, golden, perfect.

“Yeah.” He sinks down next to me. Clear green eyes hold mine. “Let’s fuck.”

I sit up, wind my arms around him. His wet skin feels cool against mine. He cups my cheek in his palm and kisses me with salt flavored lips.

He’s already erect when I peel his trunks off. I discard my shorts, and he opens those long legs for me. My nutmeg-brown hands form a breathtaking contrast against the delicate pale rose of his cock. The sun rarely sees that part of him. I think she considers herself blessed right now, to look down on the sight of him bare and spread, wanton in his lust.

Suntan oil scents the air with coconut and memories as I slick his hole, pushing my fingers inside. He opens so easily for me. His soft gasps make a music sweeter than the songs of night birds, or swift rivers over stones. I sink my cock into his living heat, and the world rejoices with us. The ocean sings for us, the sun blesses us, as I move inside him, our bodies twined into one. When he comes, the smell of warm semen against salty skin fills my senses, sending me tumbling into a familiar bliss.

We lie there for a while, boneless with heat and post-orgasmic languor. The faint dust of freckles scattered across his nose twists my heart.

“I love you, Aiden,” he whispers.

“And I love you, my beautiful boy.”

His kisses are soft as orchids, sweet as spring rain. He tastes of sun and sea. Somewhere out there, I know, the world rushes on. One day, Gage and I will rejoin that mad dash toward some ephemeral goal. But just now, I don’t care. Nothing matters at this moment but the naked man in my arms. Vibrant joy flows from him like a river of light, and I’m content to lie here for all time, washed in his bright essence.

Floating. Just floating.