Sand Between Her Toes

The wedding was in full swing, the ocean breeze carrying the sound of waves and a cover band's off-key rendition of "At Last." I was leaning against the bar, nursing a gin and tonic, when I saw her. Maya. My yoga instructor, but not in her usual black leggings and sports bra. She was wearing a backless sundress the color of burnt orange, and her skin—god, that skin—was the deep, golden brown of someone who spent every spare minute in the sun. It wasn't just tanned; it was a lifestyle. I'd spent the last three months staring at her from the back of the class, watching the muscles in her calves flex, the way her spine curved in downward dog. I'd never said more than "thanks" and "see you next week."

"Fancy seeing you here," she said, appearing beside me. Her voice was low, a little husky. "You're not going to call me 'teacher' all night, are you?"

"Only if you promise to correct my form." I regretted the line instantly, but she laughed, a genuine, open sound.

"Deal. But first, dance with me." She grabbed my hand, her palm warm and dry, and pulled me toward the makeshift dance floor. The song was slow, something sappy, and she stepped into my space without hesitation. Her body pressed against mine, the thin cotton of her dress doing nothing to hide the heat radiating off her. I could smell her—sunscreen, salt, and something floral. My cock stirred, pressing against my trousers, and she must have felt it because she looked up at me, a wicked glint in her eye.

"Careful," she whispered. "You might hurt someone with that."

"Only if you keep grinding against me."

She bit her lip, then nodded toward the beach. "Let's get out of here. My feet are killing me."

We walked down the wooden steps onto the sand, the music fading behind us. The moon was bright, casting silver light on the water. She kicked off her heels, then turned to me, her eyes dark.

"I've wanted you since the first class," she said. "Watching you struggle with your breathing while I was on top of you—"

"On top of me?" I laughed.

"You know what I mean. In the pose." She stepped closer, her fingers finding the buttons of my shirt. "But I think we're done with talking."

Her hands were quick, unbuttoning my shirt and pushing it off my shoulders. She tugged at my belt, her knuckles brushing against my hardening cock. I hissed, my hands finding her hips, pulling her flush against me. Her mouth found mine, hot and demanding, her tongue sliding against mine. I tasted champagne and salt.

"Fuck, Maya."

"Not yet," she murmured, dropping to her knees in the sand. She unzipped my trousers, freeing my cock. It was already leaking, the tip glistening in the moonlight. She wrapped her fingers around it, stroking slowly, her thumb circling the head. Then she leaned forward and took me in her mouth, deep, all the way to the back of her throat. I groaned, my hands tangling in her hair. She moved with a rhythm she'd learned somewhere, her tongue working the underside of my shaft, her hand pumping the base. I was close, embarrassingly close, and she knew it. She pulled off, a string of saliva connecting her lips to my cock.

"Not yet," she said again, standing up. She turned around, bending over, lifting the hem of her dress. She wasn't wearing underwear. Her ass was round and tight, the tan lines stark against the pale skin of her hips. She reached back, spreading herself, revealing her pussy—wet, glistening, shaved clean except for a neat strip of dark hair.

"Fuck me," she said. "Right here. Right now."

I didn't need to be asked twice. I stepped closer, my cock pressing against her entrance. She was so wet, so ready. I pushed in, slow at first, feeling her heat envelop me. She moaned, a low, throaty sound that got lost in the sound of the waves. I grabbed her hips, my fingers digging into her skin, and started to move. Hard. Fast. The way she wanted it. Her head fell back, her hair whipping in the wind, and she pushed back against me, meeting every thrust.

"God, yes," she gasped. "Right there. Don't stop."

I reached around, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles. She shuddered, her inner walls clenching around me.

"I'm going to come," she breathed.

"Come for me, Maya."

She did, with a cry that was half-laugh, half-sob, her body convulsing around me. I followed moments later, emptying myself inside her with a grunt, my vision white. We stood there for a moment, panting, the ocean air cooling our skin. She turned, her face flushed, a lazy smile on her lips.

"Now," she said, "about that form correction."

I laughed, pulling her close. "Any time, teacher."

She rested her head on my chest. "Call me that again and I'll make you do a hundred sun salutations."

"I might like that."

She tilted her head up, kissing me softly. "Let's go find a shower."

CATEGORIES: [Tanned, Outdoor fucking, Just the Two of Us, Beach, Yoga]