Fall With Me

get back to the ranch, Griffin wants to take a walk on the beach. It’s late, but we’re both still too pumped up from the evening to go to bed, so I agree. He takes my hand as we make our way down the trail, and we walk down onto the sand, the waves crashing in front of us.
    “I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says. “Thanks for letting me take you out.”
    “You’re a riot. That thing at the café? I seriously can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. And those guys loved you.”
    We stop, and he lets go of my hand. He turns so he’s facing me; we’re close enough to embrace but for a moment we both just stand there. He smiles.
    “You’re beautiful.”
    I look down at the sand, then back at him, trying to ignore the tingling feeling that’s swirling in my chest. “For someone who’s been with as many girls as you have, I’d think you’d have a better line than that.”
    “It’s not a line,” he says. “It’s the truth.”
    He brings his hands up to either side of my face and waits until I meet his eyes before he speaks again. “And yes, maybe I have been with a lot of girls, but that only means I happen to know what I’m talking about. And you, sweetheart, are beautiful.”
              He brings his hands down to my shoulders and lets his head drop toward mine, slowly, his eyes falling halfway shut. But he doesn’t kiss me; he stops, his mouth maybe an inch from mine, lips parted slightly.
    We stand like that. He’s not going to kiss me. He’s going to let me kiss him, if I want to. If I choose not to, maybe he’ll give my shoulders a squeeze and then back away, tell me to keep my chin up or something.
    I tilt my head back a little, closing the distance. Less than an inch.
    He stays still. His breath is warm on my face, something tingles in the air between us. I touch my lips to his and kiss him very softly. His eyes fall closed the rest of the way and he lets out a noise that’s a cross between a sigh and a groan. He moves his head away and I feel his mouth near my ear.
    “I want you,” he whispers. “Give me more.”
    His grip tightens on my shoulders, his hands moving down my arms to my waist. He slips one hand under my shirt and his palm is warm, first on my hip, then moving across my abdomen. He brings his face to mine again and this time I pull him toward me, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him, mouths wide open, tongues entwined. We pull apart only so he can slip my dress over my head. The feeling of our bare skin touching is electric. He tilts my head back so I’m looking up at the sky and he slowly kisses the length of my neck. His fingertips trace lightly over the contours of my ribcage, my shoulder blades, and then he’s unfastening my bra and it falls away.
    “Very nice,” he says, gently squeezing my breasts.
    I can’t help the groan that escapes from my mouth when he takes my nipple into his mouth. He runs his hands down my back, he squeezes my ass and then slaps it gently.
    He brings his hands back around and pushes at the waist of my skirt, lowering himself to his knees. He slips my underwear off, running his hands from the innermost point of my thigh down past my knee, down my calf, the way you would to a horse to get it to lift its leg. I step out of the bathing suit; one leg, then the other. He brings his hands back up to my thighs and pushes my legs apart, lowering his head, his tongue making slow circles over my clit. He slides one finger, then another, easily into my vagina and I feel my stomach muscles contract as my breath catches in my throat. My legs have been reduced to jelly and I’m not exactly sure how it’s physically possible that I’m still upright.
    He reaches a hand up to my breast and squeezes my nipple.
    “I need to lie down,” I gasp.
    He lifts his head but keeps his fingers inside me. “Whatever you want, baby,” he says.
    The sand is cool on my backside. He repositions himself over me, his forearms on either side of my head. He leans down and we kiss; I run my hands over his shoulders, his biceps, the skin warm, stretched smooth over the thick muscles.
    “Wrap your legs around me,” he says.
    I do, and I feel the head of his cock brush lightly against my labia. He shifts his hips and the head slides in, less than an inch. He holds it there, and I arch my back, trying to get him to go deeper.
    “What are you doing to me,” I say, pressing my face into his upper arm. He swivels his hips in slow