Farewell to Summer: I Want to Go Down to the Beach Again (NSFW)

Summer is nearly gone; autumn is almost upon us. Summer is full of wonderful memories every year of long nights sipping wine on the balcony watching the sunset… and beaches. Everybody loves a beach for many different reasons, but it’s an ultimate destination for relaxation.

I want to go down to that beach again where we can’t hear the road, where houses don’t overlook the bay and tourists don’t visit because they don’t know it’s there.

I want to go down to that beach again where just a single kiosk hints that visitors do come here and a bumpy, sandy car park welcomes just a handful of vehicles every day.

I want to go down to that beach again where we can easily convince ourselves that we’re cut off from the world, where the current farther out keeps away all but the most experienced paddle boarders.

I want to go down to that beach again where on mid-summer’s day we held our first open air barbecue, just you and me and the comforting wood smoke scents that set the scene against blazing red and gold sunset.

I want to go down to that beach again where we lie down by the fire and listened to the water lap-lapping over pebbles, where we closed our eyes and lost ourselves in the heat of the evening and the electricity of ocean brine.

I want to go down to that beach again where we slipped off our shoes and shorts and ran carefree into the receding waterline, splashing ourselves and each other, cold water flicking up our legs (hey, this is England after all!)

I want to go down to that beach again where you slipped and as I reached out to catch you, fell on top of you into the six inches of water, tumbling together on the soft wet sand of the shore.

I want to go down to that beach again where we laughed uncontrollably as we wrapped our arms around each other and shared a salty kiss. I loved you more than ever then and wanted this moment never to end.

I want to go down to that beach again where we’re not quite sure who acted first – who pulled who close or whose wet underwear slipped off first. What I do know is that we both wanted it there and then despite reservations about having sex in public.

I want to go down to that beach again where, half-submerged in water, you clamped my buttocks tightly, pressed them against your hips and begged me not to stop no matter who turned up.

I want to go down to that beach again where we no longer cared how wet we were from the sea as we fucked in public, unbridled but unwatched, muttering each other’s name in the rapture of orgasm.

I want to go down to that beach again where by the failing light of the dazzling golden-pink sun, our bodies subsided and relaxed but never stopped kissing or expressing our desire for each other and for the moment.

I want to go down to that beach again where finally we separated from each other with a kiss and made our way back to the car holding hands, not wanting to let go except to collect our things.

I want to go down to that beach again where semi-naked and full of the joys of the season, we pulled away from that deserted beach, leaving our memories of a wonderful summer.

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