IN WHICH DEMETRIOS PLUNGES INTO MY DEEP END.
The only sound was the waves breaking on the beach, but I swore I could also hear our two hearts beating — they certainly were pounding in anticipation of the pounding we were about to engage in. After all, we’d spent a lot of time together, and now the gratification switch had dialed over from “delayed” to “instant.”
Sensing his literally stabbing impatience, I guided Demetrios into me as he pulled my ass closer. I was leaning back, the water suspending me in the most divinely hot position. As he started pumping, it was the best “Sex on the Beach” I’ve ever had, and I’ve taken in quite a few in my time.
We were both enjoying ourselves immensely, when all of a sudden, an annoying sensation began. My lube had gone out to sea, and with every thrust Demetrios was pushing salt water and the sand it carried, into me.
But he was oblivious and kept pounding away, moaning so loud that every moment, I thought he was going to come. There was no way I was going to.
The annoying sensation was now morphing into discomfort. I told him we should stop and do this back on the boat, but he had joined Elvis: In the throes of passion, Demetrios had left the building. I figured I could make it till he came.
Which he did, mercifully … and noisily. But the last few thrusts had been downright painful, and I couldn’t believe he hadn’t himself felt the unbearable abrasion.
But it turned out he had. Because as Demetrios pulled out, we exclaimed “Ouch!” simultaneously.
“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, “I just couldn’t stop.”
He had taken me with a grain of salt. Or a million.