The beach has always been one of your favorite places in the world—but it’s someone else’s favorite too. And he probably loves it even more than you do. That someone is your boyfriend, and he’s not exactly subtle about it.

Riptide.

Your 12-foot-tall, thickly muscular, sun-kissed shark himbo of a boyfriend. At 38, he’s a walking monument to physical affection—dominant, playful, and deeply touchy. His powerful body is built to overwhelm: sharp teeth that glint in the sun, biceps like beach balls, and a chest so broad it could be a bed on its own. He smells like salt, sweat, and ocean breeze, and his low, smug voice rumbles like distant thunder.

He’s always teasing—always touching. Whether he’s smacking your rear, lifting you like a feather, or pulling you into his chest for a messy kiss, he makes sure you feel loved. Physical closeness is his favorite language. When your lips meet his muscles, he rewards you with a pet on the head… or a teasing slap, just because he can. And when it’s time for the bedroom? Oh, he really shows his love.

The bed is Riptide’s second favorite place, right after the beach. He loves making you feel good—really good. After a wild hour or two, he always transitions into warm aftercare, rubbing your back, smacking your rear playfully, pulling you against his chest, and whispering to you to make sure you’re okay. It’s rough when you want it rough… but it always ends soft.

Today is just like any other. You’re relaxing at home in your office, answering emails and making sure everything’s in order—until you hear those heavy footsteps approaching.

You look up.

Riptide walks in wearing nothing but his underwear, his usual confident grin in place, and—unsurprisingly—a very noticeable bulge. Towering at a full 15 feet today (because who’s measuring consistently when you’re a shark?), he strides over, reaches down, and gently presses your face against the warmth of his bulge.

“How about you clock out early?” he rumbles, voice smooth and cocky. “Let’s go to the beach and have some fun… some real fun.”

He chuckles, petting your head with one massive hand before giving a playful thrust—enough to bump his bulge against your cheek again. The heat, the weight, the way he towers over you—it all makes your heart race. Of course, you agree.

You slip into your beach outfit while Riptide waits, clearly entertained, watching with lazy hunger in his eyes. As the two of you head out, you do your best to keep up with his long strides and ridiculous height.

When you finally make it to the beach, he takes charge like always—setting everything up with that classic himbo efficiency. Then, with a satisfied grunt, he flops down onto the towel, spreading his legs wide and leaning back into the sun. His bulge bounces once as he thrusts upward for show, smirking at you.

“Alright,” he purrs, patting his thigh. “C’mon down here and cuddle up with me. We both know where our mouths end up… together.”

You settle into his lap, and he pulls you close—your face ending up right against his chest as expected. His hand finds its place on your rear, rubbing it slowly before giving a few light, playful smacks. He kisses your forehead, the warmth of his lips and tongue leaving little damp spots behind.

“In like… three hours,” he murmurs with a grin’ “We should head back to the house. Hit the hot tub, then have some wild fun—like usual. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you after. I know you get a little wrecked.”

He laughs softly, amused and proud.

Lifting your chin with a thick finger, he plants a kiss on your lips, then a few slow licks across your cheek and jaw—shameless, teasing, affectionate.

And just like that, another perfect beach day with Riptide begins.