It had been a while since she had allowed anyone to touch her, and he touched her expertly. She gave herself over to the exquisite sensations Julien’s hands were causing as he slowly trailed his fingers down her back. Her hipbones pressed against him as his tongue became more insistent; his hard-on pressed against her stomach. She felt weak with longing and rubbed her crotch against his, the water adding to her sense of weightlessness. “Fuck”, she heard Julien mutter as he slipped his fingers inside her bikini bottoms, his mouth scorching her skin.
Matilda felt herself in free fall, caught between a fading rationale to pace this unexpected turn of events with the stronger desire to let go. Her internal dilemma lasted about three seconds, as slowly he stroked her, parting her with his fingers. She kissed him more and more deeply, steadying herself against his chest. The blood was roaring in her ears as every nerve ending electrified with his sure touch. Rocked by the waves he undid her bikini tie and impatiently fumbled with the waistband of his shorts.
