My bikini was too small at the beach…

Together, Josh and I walked up the sand, our bodies dripping and salty, my bikini still clinging to me. I wrung water from my hair as we walked, trying not to think about the way his body had felt against mine in the ocean, the feel of my soft ass pressed against his thigh, trying to focus instead on the way the sand burned the soles of my feet, a pleasurable contrast to the cold saltiness of the ocean. As for Josh himself, I have no idea what he was thinking, his eyes scanning the horizon as we walked back to our towels in silence.

We sat down in the same spot as before, away from the clusters of umbrellas and noisy groups of teenagers throwing frisbees. Their distant shouts faded beneath just the roll of the tide and gulls above.

I looked out at the water, whilst beside me, Josh stretched out flat on his front, folding his arms beneath him and closing his eyes.

“Wake me if I crash,” he mumbled, his eyes closed, his breath heavy already.

“Sure,” I said, feeling it too; the gentle ambience of the beach relaxing my body and mind.

I rolled my towel smooth and lay on my side at first, facing him. His back was browned and dotted with a few flat grains of sand from the water. I wanted to brush them off him, but the gesture was too close and intimate, so I just watched as a trickle ran from his hairline into the towel, darkening it in a thin line.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but suddenly my bikini top felt too tight against my nipples, the bottoms riding higher on my hips, lower in the middle, the fabric pushing softly between my legs. I swallowed once, then again. The taste of salt in my mouth.

Don’t go there, I told myself. Clear your mind. Relax.

But I was relaxed, that was half the problem, my legs aching to fall open and spread my lips just a little wider, so I could feel the fabric just a tiny bit more acutely. It was just the swim, the sun, the day, nothing at all to do with Josh. I set one palm on my stomach and pressed lightly, just to feel the rise and fall of my own breath.

Normal. Innocent.

Right?

I brushed my hands a little lower, ostensibly shaking a sprinkle of sand from my thigh. The motion was small, but my fingers brushed the string at my hip and paused. I held my breath and looked over at Josh. His face was still buried in his arms.

I told myself there was no harm in adjusting. I hooked a fingertip under the string and pulled the elastic a fraction, letting it snap back softly against my naked hip. The tiny sting made my stomach flutter.

I shifted my tote bag so it sat between us like a small wall and laid my thin cotton dress across my midriff as if I were about to take a nap. But I wasn’t thinking about sleeping. Not anymore.

I slid my right hand under the dress and let my knuckles rest on my pelvis. A pulse beat there in time with the one in my throat. The pad of my middle finger found the shallow dip above the bikini line and rubbed a slow, thoughtless path around my hip bone. Small circles. I breathed through my nose. My chest rose, fell. Nothing obvious.

I flexed my hand against the mound of my pussy through the fabric and let the smallest breath escape me, trying my best to not let it sound like a moan.

I checked him again.

Still asleep. Still the same steady rhythm.

I was just a little pent up, that was all. Everyone gets a bit horny sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?

Beneath the dress, I gently pressed my fingertip along the dampness where the bikini clung. It didn’t take much to find how far gone I already was. The fabric stuck to me a little and then let go. I swallowed and felt my throat click.

Oh fuck. This was bad.

I pulled my hand away.

I had to stop.

Only, it didn’t feel like stopping. It felt like I was just waiting until I dared do it again. And so I risked another dip beneath the dress, only this time I eased the side of the triangle aside just enough to let one finger slip beneath and push against me, against my wet clit and my slightly spread lips. I moved slowly, watching in real time as my nipples hardened right there next to my friend, feeling myself, scared any greater movement could wake him. I bit down on my lip as I circled a fraction right, then back. My calves tensed, then relaxed. A tremor ran along my thigh and I had to go still and wait it out so it wouldn’t show.

I was only making it worse. I wanted to sit up and grind my pussy into my hand until my back arched and my knees fell wide and the dress slid to my waist. In my head I pictured it, my hips rolling, my tits bouching, the relief of going after it instead of lying here pretending. In the picture, a hand came from behind me, wrapping itself gently around my throat as I fucked myself, the other pulling gently on my nipples.

No. Not that. Not him.

I wasn’t thinking of Josh.

That’s what I told myself, anyway. And yet there he was, the way he’d skimmed the flat of his hands over my nipples like it was an accident, the weight of his body as he’d pinned me in the water for a second, the feel of his hard cock as it slid between my cheeks by mistake. Beneath the dress, my pussy clenched so hard that I had to lift my heels and lay them back down to dissipate it.

Goosebumps rose along my belly and down my arms. I slid my finger a fraction lower and gently eased a finger inside myself.

Josh shifted. His head tipped to one side and his arm slid, altering the angle of his shoulder. I froze, my finger buried inside my pussy to the first knuckle. I was still hidden beneath the dress, but my heart was hammering.

He snored once, soft and brief, then settled.

Fuck, that was close.

I eased my finger just a little deeper, pressing the heel of my other hand just under my sternum to hold myself down. The dress rose with my breath and fell again. My hips tried to tilt. My thighs wanted to open. I pictured the angle of his sunglasses and the exact distance between us. All he would have to do would be to open his eyes slightly and he would see me with my fingers buried inside myself, slutty and horny and needy and desperate, my skin flushed.

I wanted to fuck myself so badly I could have cried.

I allowed myself a small movement of my hips, easing down on my finger and again told myself I wasn’t imaging it to be Josh’s cock. A tremor climbed my thighs and I had to hold my breath and ride it in place. My free hand found the edge of the towel and gripped until my fingers hurt.

“How long was I out?”

Josh was awake. Awake and looking right at me.

“Oh…uh…” I cleared my throat, pretending my finger was not still inside my pussy. Could he see it? My dress was still partially covering my body in a way that made me unsure just exactly which parts of me he could see. Maybe everything. Maybe nothing. My blood ran hot and cold at the same time. “Just a few minutes…”

“Mm.” He rolled onto his side, facing me. “You okay? You look a little flushed?”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Just…enjoying the sun.”

“Nice.” He rolled to sit and rubbed his face with both hands. A sheet of sand fell from his hair. He looked at me for maybe half a second–just a glance longer–and then stood, stretching in that unselfconscious way he always did. His back was turned for maybe half a second, and I used it as my opportunity, slipping my bikini back over my dripping pussy and sitting up. “You hungry?”

I looked down at my body, my chest flushed red from how close I had come to cumming, my nipples still hard, my clit aching, desperate for sensation. I cleared my throat and tried to act as normal as I possibly could.

“You have no idea.”