Sea of Love

It was evening and the sun had just set, but it still cast its last rays from beyond the horizon. He sat on the seashore, looking for a girl for the evening. The water was warmer than ever. He sat by the shore so that the waves could caress his feet, gazed into the distance, and thought about his own things, something mysterious and, judging by his smile, happy.

People were already leaving the beach, but he kept sitting and sitting, undisturbed by anything—neither the approaching darkness nor the cries of the seagulls that just wouldn't calm down. At that moment, he heard light footsteps behind him, very close. Turning around, he saw a girl in front of him. She was tanned and wearing a light white dress that barely reached her knees,

her legs were slender, and even through the dress, her beautiful figure was visible. A brunette with a slightly playful look, but there was a mysterious sadness on her face. She came closer and asked, "May I sit down?" He answered with a nod. She continued, "Sorry to disturb you. I wanted to be alone today and came here, but at the last moment, I got scared of loneliness. Am I bothering you?" "No, not at all, have a seat. Den." "What, sorry?" "My name is Den." "Oh, I didn't understand at first. Dasha." "Very nice," he extended his hand to her, and she shook it a bit cautiously. Her hand felt pleasant and warm. Den, examining her face, noticed traces of tears and couldn't help but ask, "Did someone hurt you?" Dasha reached up to wipe the already dried tears, smiled slightly, and answered, "Not anymore. I want to forget it as soon as possible, that's why I approached you, so I wouldn't be alone with my sad thoughts." "I agree, we often feel sad when alone, but only some know how to appreciate it." He looked at her face and liked her more and more. Her gaze was pure, and her eyes sparkled under the rising moon. Den, as always, was direct in conversation, so he couldn't help but say, "You know, you have beautiful eyes, and I can't help but admire them," he smiled, looking straight into her eyes, hoping to read her thoughts. Her eyes squinted slightly, a smile played on her face, and she answered just as directly, "And I like your voice; it calms me. You know, when I approached you, I felt something warm emanating from you, and now it's even pleasant to sit next to you."

Den liked the answer, moved closer to her, felt the subtle scent of her hair, which attracted him even more. Unable to resist, he leaned toward her hair and inhaled. His mind raced; the scent captivated him. He forgot about everything, his head spun a little, he felt her warm palm on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes. He thought she would be frightened by his behavior, consider him a psycho or worse—a maniac. But what he saw surprised him a bit; biting her lower lip, she looked at him languidly. Her gaze fell on his lips, and he instinctively licked them. He took her palm in his hand and gently pulled her toward him; she yielded, closing her eyes. Dasha leaned in and kissed him. The kiss was soft, very tender. Barely touching his lips to hers, Den ran his tongue, tickling her lips. She enveloped his tongue with her lips and drew it in, making movements as if sucking a small cock. He felt blood rushing to his genitals, his breathing became heavier, his hand reached for her breast, and his fingers found her hard nipple; he cupped her breast and gently squeezed. She moaned, moved even closer to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and ran her hand through his hair. They kept kissing, their tongues long intertwined in the passion of their play. Den led her down, lying on his back; she sat on him, pressing her chest against him so hard that he felt her nipples pressing against his through her dress. Dasha became more aroused than Den, started rubbing against his stomach; her panties had long been wet, leaving a damp mark on his stomach. Den caressed her firm butt with one hand, while the other went under her dress to play with her nipple.

He felt his swim trunks were about to burst from tension; he took the edges of Dasha's dress with both hands and removed it. She was beautiful in the moonlight. Den raised himself, kissed her nipple, running his tongue over it; he saw her skin become goosebumpy. Dasha, still squirming against him, reached into Den's swim trunks, encountered his firm cock, and freed it from the trunks. His cock was covered in his own precum; Dasha carefully ran her hand over the head, spreading the precum on her hand, then wrapped her whole hand around it and began moving it up and down. Her hand slid well over his cock, and Den moaned. He kissed Dasha's breasts, caressing her back, butt, and helping her rub against his stomach, which was already all wet. Tired of this, Den reached to remove Dasha's panties, lay on his back, and Dasha climbed onto his face, pressing her crotch so that it was at Den's mouth. The scent of her "girl" aroused him; she was wet, and his tongue felt a special taste that he liked. He caressed her with his tongue, swallowing her love juice, kissing her lips, and sucking her clitoris. Den tried to penetrate as deeply as possible with his tongue; Dasha moaned, squirmed, she moved faster and faster, warmth spread throughout her body, biting her lips, she let out moans. Her breasts also demanded attention; she played with her nipples, giving herself even more pleasure.

Den enjoyed caressing Dasha with his tongue; he generally took pleasure in hearing her moan under his caresses, and he tried to give her as much pleasure as possible. He penetrated her with his tongue, then played with her clitoris, pinching it with his lips, running his tongue over it. Dasha could no longer restrain herself; she began squirming more fiercely on Den's face, feeling that just a little more and everything inside her would explode. Sensing Dasha's approaching orgasm, he began caressing her sphincter with his index finger, making circular motions over it; the sphincter was slippery from Dasha's juice, so moving his finger over it was no trouble. He began penetrating Dasha more fiercely with his tongue until he felt her sphincter convulsively contracting and expanding; a small stream of juice sprayed into his face, Dasha's vagina contracted and expanded, and Dasha herself let out a moan that resembled more of a scream. She jerked on his face; a wave of orgasm pierced her entire body, she convulsed, she flew into a world of passion where orgasms make you lose consciousness.

They merged into one. They bit each other, scratched, and even screamed. Dasha's second orgasm was even stronger than the first; she scratched Den's entire back, her vagina convulsively squeezed his cock, she felt something warm and sticky spreading inside her. Den jerked, biting Dasha's neck, grabbed her shoulders—pulling her close, he thrust into her sharply, his moan muffled by her kiss. He felt the orgasm had already lasted more than 20 seconds; his body trembled, experiencing a wave of pleasure... They lay there, their breathing heavy. After a while, they got up holding hands and went to the sea to swim. Returning to the shore, they sat embracing each other, looking at the stars and the already setting moon. They felt good together; their thoughts were absorbed by the pleasure they had received that evening. Pressing closer to Den, Dasha whispered, "It's a good thing I approached you." He answered her with a kiss...