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 To the Sound of the Ocean

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.


He found her swinging gently in the hammock. The ocean breeze coursed through the screens of the porch, carrying the cries of gulls and the tang of salt. Her sun-streaked hair curled in the humidity, falling heavily against the ropes. When she shifted drowsily, he could see the red lines where her thigh had been pressed against the hammock, her shorts riding up so he caught a glimpse of the floral bikini bottoms she wore.

Standing above her, he hooked a single finger over one of the edge ropes and rocked her gently, almost in time with the crashing of the waves from across the dunes. She blinked, chasing away a mid-afternoon nap, and smiled up at him sleepily.

“Want to join me?” she asked.

“I’ll probably spill you out.”

“I doubt that.” A suggestive quality seeped into her smile.

She ran a hand down his bare stomach and tugged at the drawstring of his blue-patterned swim trunks. His cock twitched in response.

“Scoot over then.”

With a moan, she pulled herself sideways a few inches and collapsed. “Too tired to move. You’ll have to move me for you.”

He chuckled and caught her hips to lift them and deposited her further over. Her legs shifted, but her upper torso did not, so he settled himself opposite her, one foot propped on the wooden bar of the hammock above her head, the other flat on the second story porch to gently rock them.

She turned into him, her face resting against his thigh. When he bent her knee and began to massage her foot, she moaned in appreciation. They stayed like that for a time, content to swing, protected from the worst of the midday heat, bodies fresh from their shower after spending time on the beach.

He dug his thumbs into the sole of her foot, his gaze traveling up her tanned leg, over her flat stomach to where her breasts threatened to spill from a small bikini top. Not because she was overly large, but because the way she’d turned her body had her breasts pressing against her arm.

His cock did more than twitch when she adjusted herself, the fabric on the bikini tightening long enough he could see the outline of her nipple. His mind caught on the image, replaying it on a loop with the ones of her stretched out on the beach and playing in the water. Her ass had looked so…delectable. Her hair had been a mess then, so much sea salt clinging to it. Now, it snuck through the giant holes in the hammock and swung back and forth in time with his rocking.

Blood swelled into his dick, pressing it against the uncomfortable mesh inside the trunks. He paused from massaging her to readjust, starling her into opening her eyes. He shrugged when she lifted an eyebrow at the bulge.

“You’re sexy,” he said by way of explanation.

She smiled, still that sleepy sort of smile, small, but reaching her eyes. Instead of closing her eyes once more, she reached up and tugged at the string of his swim trunks, this time pulling them until they came free.

“What are you doing?” he asked wryly.

In the same tone, she responded, “Nothing at all.” Then she lifted his swim trunks over his erection, her finger lightly tracing the vein on the underside.

“You’re killing me,” he said quietly.

She hummed in response, her head still resting on his thigh as her fingers danced over his cock. He began to leak at the attention, a tiny, unsteady stream of pre-come dripping down against the tips of her fingers. Pale against her tanned skin. Smooth against his flesh.

The breeze coming through the screens was warm and seductive. The ropes harsh against his back, but comforting in a strange sort of way as he continued to lift his foot repetitively to keep them moving.

Her eyes drifted closed as her thumb worked pre-come into the underside of his cockhead. His own did the same a moment later as her grip tightened. She began to leisurely jerk him, teasing the tip of his head with a finger through his slit every few pumps.

He could lie like this forever. Just coast on this feeling.

He was so lost in that feeling, he barely noticed the weight of her head moving. Not until a wet warmth engulfed his tip.

“Oh god.”

His eyes snapped open, dropping to where she had her mouth around him. Her hair flowed around her head, tickling his skin as she worked her way down his shaft. He throbbed in want, the coasting feeling he’d had moments ago quickly replaced by a more immediate desire.

She sucked him down and eased back off, her tongue licking around his tip, fluttering in a familiar, intimate way that had him taking in a hard breath. With one hand, he caressed her head, brushing her hair back tenderly. He kept his hand there, lightly holding her hair back as she moved against him.

Her tongue felt like magic. Her throat like a vice. She stroked up his stomach toward his chest where he caught her hand. He held her like that, her fingers entwined with his, his grip on her hair tightening as the tension in his gut and the pull in his groin heightened.

“Babe, oh god, babe, you’re so…” He trailed off with a low groan, lifting his hips.

As the wave of orgasm crashed down on him, his muscles contracted and his back curled off the hammock. The grip he had on her hand became crushing and his fingers tightened in her hair so strongly he could feel individual strands cutting into his skin. He saw white as he pulsed inside of her, his shout startlingly loud in the quiet afternoon.

He relaxed against the hammock, the sharp cries of the seagulls further away and the crashing of the shore loud in his ears. She let him slip from her mouth and curled up with her head back against his leg, her fingers playing with the trail of hair upon his abdomen. With a sated smile, he stroked her hair and then ran his fingers down the length of her body.

“You keep things interesting,” he said.

She yawned. “I try.”

As his fingers reached her shorts, his palm cupping her groin, she nudged closer against him. But when he rubbed, he found her mostly unresponsive, her hand settled limply upon his stomach, her eyes closed, hair tugging along her cheek in the quiet sea breeze.

He smiled and wrapped his hand around her ass, massaging her lightly through her clothes as her breath heated his skin. There’d be time for more when she woke up for real. And in the meantime, he rocked them to the sound of the ocean, the creak of the hammock and the rush of the shore enticing him into its peaceful embrace.

the end