Numbers in the Sand

Her fingers bear down either side of my pussy hole, massaging the muscles around it and spreading it open to the point where it is begging to be fucked. When her wet, probing tongue slips inside me, I let out a gasp. It pauses for a second before flicking over the inner walls of my cunt with playful abandon. She sucks hungrily, causing my knees to buckle from sheer weakness.

When she draws back, it is difficult for me to contain my disappointment. I snap out of my swoon, thrusting my ass back towards her, but she has already slid as far as my clit. I feel another soft pressure against my opening, but this time it is harder, firmer and, as it shoots towards my womb, I realise it is also considerably longer. She is fingering me, two elegant fingers pumping in and out of my pussy. Her lips clamp around my clit and suck on the swollen button, now throbbing with desire.

I am not a woman who’s accustomed to being fucked this hard. To be honest, I am not a woman who’s accustomed to being fucked at all. I have a tight pussy, and lasting memories of far too many trying too much too soon. It has led me to shy away from all kinds of penetration – although perversely, I enjoy fucking other women more than anything else in the world. Where masturbation is concerned, I don’t even own a vibrator. Yet at this moment in time, I am on all fours, my cunt receiving a deep finger-fucking – from a total stranger.

I moan when I feel her spreading me open wider. Her fingers are now barely touching, each focussing on stroking the walls of my pussy and relaxing it into further submission. They slide out a little before being joined by a third finger and creeping back in again, millimetre by millimetre. At the halfway point, she wiggles them around, sending tiny shockwaves through my body. I begin to cum. The stars swim around my line of vision and begin to multiply.

I know the tightness of my pussy has been far too powerful a temptation for her. This is not just a random seduction – it is a game. There are no rules, other than to break down the rules and resolutions that have defined my sex life for years. It suddenly hits me that any late night walker might be gazing over at this intimate scene. But rather than being filled with horror, the thought sends me crashing into another orgasm. Taking advantage of the dramatic increase in lubrication, my lover inserts a fourth finger inside me, spreading them out and beginning to fuck me with her entire hand. I have never felt anything like it. Full beyond capacity, the pressure in my pussy is immense, but the persistent flickers of her tongue across my clit make it the most pleasurable sensation of my life.

Soon, the muscles of my cunt are squeezing so tightly against her hand that it’s as much as she can do to move it at all. Orgasm after orgasm explodes through my body, leaving me whimpering in the moonlight. I no longer know where I am or what is happening – only that I have been taken to another world tonight. Unable to hold my own strength any longer, I feel my body buckling forward into the surf. My last sensation is of her hand slipping out of me as she rolls me onto my back.

It is dawn when I awake. A sharp bleeping from my pocket snaps me back to reality, causing me to leap to my feet with my heart pounding. The automatic reflex of the doctor –attuned as a mother’s ear to her newborn. I have been awake less than five minutes, yet the early morning adrenalin is pumping fast through my veins. It is a day like any other – children playing, dogs powering through the shallows, and early-morning joggers displaying their virtues to the rest of the waking world. In the coarse face of reality, the eroticism of last night fades into a dream. The sea holds many legends, and as I glance wistfully over my shoulder, I come to the sad realisation that this was just one among millions.

I turn for the road, reluctant to leave the golden tide behind. The day is young and already promising to be action-filled, but somehow I’m not really in the mood. I allow my head to drop, and it is now, at this least likely last moment that I notice it – a number carved neatly into the sand right next to me. I bend down and trace the pattern with my finger. It is no random number. Its length makes it easily identifiable as a phone number; and from the prefix, I know immediately that it is local. I look around. There are no obvious pranksters in sight, and of the souls now inhabiting the beach, no one seems remotely interest in my breathless surprise.

This is the moment where my world changes. The morning breeze is now scattering the sand across the beach. In less than an hour, the number will be gone - but in my heart it remains etched forever. I still don’t know her name, but I’m sure I will by the end of the coming night.