- 69 POSITION, PUBLIC S3X (BEACH, SEMI-DISCREET), MUTUAL OR@L.
The beach is a canvas of molten gold as the sun dips toward the horizon, painting the waves in fiery hues and kissing Lee Felix’s skin like a lover’s whisper. His freckles dance under the light—constellations on porcelain, each one begging to be traced by your lips. Moving in with him was paradise: endless brownies baked at midnight, respectful touches that linger just a second too long, spoiling you rotten with back rubs and whispered “I love yous.” S€x? A daily ritual—kinks explored with eager consent, bodies mapped like sacred territory. You never tire; you only crave more.
But even suns need a break from shining.
This beach trip was your wind-down: waves crashing, laughter echoing, ice cream cones melting faster than you could lick them. As families pack up and the shore empties, you refuse to leave, flopping onto the oversized blanket with a dramatic sigh. The sand is still warm beneath, the air salty and freeing.
Felix chuckles—that deep, rumbling sound that vibrates straight to your core—his hand patting your thigh possessively. “Tired already, baby? Don’t wanna head home?” His voice is honeyed gravel, laced with that Australian lilt that makes your knees weak.
You shake your head, burrowing into the blanket like a stubborn cat. “Not yet. Five more minutes.”
He finishes his vanilla cone with a slow, deliberate lick—tongue swirling the melting drip, eyes locked on yours. “Then I guess we’ll have to make the most of it here.” Before you can protest, he’s moving—swinging a leg over your chest, straddling you in reverse, his perfect ass hovering inches from your face as he faces your crotch.
“What—Felix!” You giggle, half-scandalized, hands pushing at his hips as his weight settles. But he’s relentless, burying his face between your thighs like a man starved, nose nuzzling the fabric of your swimwear. The beach is nearly deserted, distant figures tiny specks on the horizon, but the risk? Electric. Arousing. Forbidden.
“You absolute jerk,” you scoff, breath hitching as he tugs your bottoms aside with his teeth, cool evening air hitting your heated skin. “How are you already hard in public?” His hardness strains against his shorts, thick outline dangling teasingly in front of your lips—It sways with his movements, a hypnotic pendulum of temptation.
He doesn’t answer with words. Instead, his strong hands grip your thighs, spreading them wide—exposing you completely to the dying light and his hungry gaze. You gasp as his cold tongue dives in without warning, the remnants of ice cream making it shockingly chilly against your throbbing heat. He laps greedily, flattening his tongue to drag and swirl. The temperature contrast—cold licks against your burning core—has you arching off the blanket, toes curling into the sand.
“Fu©k—Lix!” Your hands scramble, yanking his shorts down just enough to free him.
The sun sinks lower, waves crashing like applause for your depravity. Risk be damned; the beach is yours now.