You chuckle at her secret, more interested in the lips on your ear but still picking up on the words they say. What is it with people and not swimming in the ocean? Rivers and lakes are vastly inferior, in your exceedingly limited experience. "Mmm. Dunno when you'll get an opportunity t'correct that," you tease back, reaching up to pull a twig out of her wild hair.
With no desire to break the quiet comfort of post-coital pleasure you finally let your eyes drift closed, one hand still draped over her back, the other cupping the curve of her ass because hey, an ass that good was absolutely meant to be held. Steadily your breathing slows and steadies, contentment and satisfaction and the sound of the sea drawing you into a blissful repose.
If you wake up and she's gone, that'll be okay. And if you wake up and she's still there... well, that'll be okay, too.
[fin]
Zephyr
you can be the ripest, juciest peach in the world
and there's still going to be someone who hates peaches
and there's still going to be someone who hates peaches
