With the first drops of icy cold water on the heated skin of your bare back, you screech, "HARRY! That's cold!" His infectious, childlike giggle flits away in the warm Bahama breeze. Using your arms to prop up, you turn your head and glare at him. Shaking himself like a puppy, Harry laughs as the droplets land on your towel, in the sand, and, naturally, on you.
This trip to the Beach House on Musha Cay is to celebrate the six month anniversary of your first date, and still Harry takes your breath away every day. Gazing at him now through your sunglasses, you shield your eyes from the bright sun while surveying his naked torso. The water pulled his swim trunks low, and his happy trail framed by those laurels makes your lady parts tingle. Plucking the sunscreen from its spot in the sand, Harry kneels next to you as he opens the bottle and squirts some on your back.
"Whale, hello there. Turning a little pink here, babe," he murmurs, as he starts to massage the lotion into your shoulders.
"Mmmmmm," you sigh, relaxing once more, laying your head on your folded arms, rolling your eyes with his newest pun. You might doze off if he continues this smooth motion over your skin. His long, elegant fingers glide along your muscles, kneading until the lotion is fully absorbed. As he finishes your back, he shifts, adding sunscreen to your calves and feet, massaging those too. Oh, yes. This is definitely heaven on earth.
Harry starts humming one of his newer tunes as he works his way up your calves to your thighs, and the sensual strokes have a different effect on you now. Sighing as his hands move closer to the apex of your thighs, you slide your legs apart just a bit.
"I hope you make sure all of my body parts are covered with lotion, Harry," you purr, "Wouldn't want any important bits to get sunburned.
The humming and movement of his hands stops abruptly, and you lift your head to see what's happened. But then his hand wanders there -- to that place where your wetness concentrates, and you lower your head once more, stifling a groan of pleasure.
Harry's husky voice floats to you, "Guess we don't want you to burn here either," as his hand dips under the waist of your bikini bottoms. You shiver at his touch on your ass, and he starts humming again as he continues to massage your glutes; only it's more of a caress now. Your legs drift further apart as Harry's long fingers start to dip closer to your core.
Unwittingly, a moan escapes, and you want to shift around to face your boyfriend, but he has other ideas as he splays one hand on your back to hold you down, carefully removing your bikini bottoms. You squirm at the air on your exposed flesh, and then cry out when you feel Harry's tongue. You're still on your stomach, and Harry is kneeling between your splayed legs, licking your wet entrance from front to back.
"Ahhhhhaaaahhaa," you giggle and squeal at the sensation. When he starts to suckle your clit, you bend your knees, extending your naked ass into the air to give him better access. Inside you are melting, getting wetter the closer you get to your orgasm. You've had enough of this, though. You want to watch him, so you throw one leg over his shoulder as you twist onto your back. Harry barely pauses, reaching up to grab your breast and knead it while his mouth continues to work on you.
His soft lips kiss your pussy as his tongue dips into you. The panting noise you hear is distracting until you realize it's coming from you. A whimper escapes as he latches onto your clit, flicking it with his tongue. Grabbing at his hair, you try to pull him further into you, but you're unsuccessful, as he backs out, sliding a finger along your thigh.
As you feel his finger approach, you also realize that it's covered in sand. Abrasive sand. Itchy sand. Sitting up abruptly, you back away in horror.
"What?" Harry inquires, heavy-lidded, "You were so close."
Wrapping your arms around your knees, you stare at his hands with those glorious fingers. "Sand, Harry. That's what. I don't think I want sand in my intimate parts." It pains you to say this, as you truly were close to a mind-blowing climax. At least you assume it would be mind-blowing. After all, it's Harry.
He's pouting, turning to grab your bikini bottoms which are covered in sand as well since he threw them to the side off the towel. Shaking your head, you grab the offensive item, stuffing it into your beach bag. Thank goodness this beach is as private as can be, and your little cottage is just a few steps away.
As he stands, you notice that he has also been affected by your little sunscreen adventure. The outline of his cock is clearly visible through his pink trunks, and you smirk. Fluidly standing in front of him, you trace the shape with your fingernail as Harry draws in a deep breath, his eyes locking on yours.
"It's too sandy out here," he croaks, wrapping his hand around yours to halt your measured movement over his length.
You giggle. When he looks at you with a cocked eyebrow, you start singing, "Sandy, can't you see? I'm in misery. We made a start. Now we're apart. There's nothing left for me."
Harry joins in on the second line, and the two of you belt out the ballad from "Grease" at the top of your lungs here on a beach in the Bahamas, one of you naked, the other clearly aroused in pink swim trunks. You dissolve into laughter just before the chorus, and Harry captures your mouth in a hot, wet kiss, dipping his tongue assertively into your mouth where you can taste remnants of yourself. Suckling his tongue, you interlace fingers with his, pulling his arms around your back, bringing you in closer proximity to his manhood. And suddenly you're desperate for him again. This won't do. The sand is still here, and you're not quite ready to go back inside yet.
Breaking away from him, you toss your sunglasses to the side and run to the water, yelling " Better than a cold shower any day!" The warm water envelops you within a few steps where the sand fades away. You hear Harry splashing behind you, so you screech and try to swim faster, but his workouts and his regular time in the icy waters of Hampstead Heath pond have made him the stronger swimmer. It's not long before he's grasped you around the leg, pulling you back towards him. Squealing in laughter, you allow him to reel you in. It's only when you wrap your legs around him that you realize he's ditched his swim trunks as well so that you are both skinny dipping in this beautiful blue water.
With your legs enveloping his waist, the desire you had previously abandoned returns with a vengeance, and you want him inside you. Now. Immediately.
"Is that an eel between your legs or are you happy to see me?" you attempt a seductive, growling voice. Instead, you can barely keep a straight face.
Harry, who is always full of puns, sings, "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's a moray."
When you groan, Harry grins wider, "You're going to damage my moray-eel if you don't laugh."
Rolling your eyes, you giggle, "I would laugh if they were good puns."
"Are you shore they aren't good ones?" he implores. "Water boat we have seafood for dinner?"
There's only one way to shut him up when he's in a punny mood, and you aren't afraid to use the technique. Nibbling gently at his lips, you whisper, "Water boat you fuck me now?"
Instantly, his laughter stops as his eyes darken. Swimming backwards towards the beach, Harry bounces you higher around his waist so that your breasts are out of the water. Wrapping his lips around your right breast, he applies gentle suction, and your head tilts back to look up at the bright cloudless sky as you pull his wet hair and moan out loud.
The water buoys you, so Harry is able to hold you with one hand while the other tweaks your nipple, and you wince. "Careful, H. You've got four of those I can torture."
You wish you could take him in your mouth right now, but drowning to give him a blowie doesn't seem like a good idea. Instead, you release your legs from their death grip so that you can grasp his cock in your hand, stroking it a few times while it grows in your hand. Now it's Harry's turn to take in the bright azure sky overhead as he exposes his throat to you, clearly enjoying the feel of your hand on him. The salty water is a terrible lubricant, though, and your hand can't quite glide over him like you both prefer. Plus every time you get positioned, a wave comes upon you, pushing you in a different direction. You feel like crying with frustration.
"Harrrrryyyy," you whine, "I'm so horny, and this water isn't cooperating."
Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, he focuses on you, "I would agree, my love." In the manliest way possible, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, his palm resting on your butt as he exits the ocean. You've got quite the nice view of his terribly pale ass, and you can't resist a little bite right there as you're being jostled.
Harry yelps, bypassing your towels and beach bag as he continues towards the cottage. You squeal at this display of masculinity from your guy. Luckily the french doors to the bedroom have been left over to capture the breeze, so Harry easily stalks in and tosses you onto the bed.
"Fuck, Harry!" you laugh, "The duvet is getting soaked with salt water."
"For what we're paying for this place," Harry easily responds, "They can buy new linens."
His eyes darken, and you notice that the tip of his cock is leaking with his need. Licking your lips, you turn over on your stomach and stalk towards where he stands. Taking his length in your hand, you lick off the pre-cum before deepthroating him as best you can. With this angle, it's hard to do, so you compensate by combining hand motions with the suction of your lips as you give him the blowie you'd wanted to give him earlier. It's not long, though, before he's thrusting his hips into your mouth, and you know he's getting close.
Pulling away from him, you crab walk backwards on the bed, making eye contact with him in the most erotic way possible. Climbing onto the bed behind you, Harry grins, sliding forward with his arms wrapped around your thighs. "Just need one more taste, babe," he slithers closer to you, and you're not sure you can stand his tongue again, so you move to close your legs. But Harry is having none of that, using his steel hands to stop you, widening the gap, wrapping one leg around his shoulder as he leans in, blowing on your pussy before his tongue ventures out, lapping at your core.
You scream, and your hips ride his face, bucking off of the bed. "Harry! I'm going to come. Please come with me! I need you inside me. NOW."
At your tone, Harry abandons his meal, sliding up your body to kiss your breasts slowly. "So gorgeous, love, and so ready for me."
He's taking his time, and you're torn apart with the edging of the last hour. "Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me now, or you'll be sleeping on the beach tonight."
With hooded eyes, Harry gazes at your nipples, whispering to them, "I'll be back, pretty ones."
Conquering your mouth with his, he thrusts inside of you without warning, swallowing your cry with his tongue. The sensation of him filling you up when you've been so desperate for him is overwhelming, and when he doesn't move while he fucks your mouth with his tongue, you try to force him by bucking your hips up into him. But it's no good. He's stronger than you, and you cannot move. Well, shit. If you can't force him to move, maybe you can force him deeper inside of you, so you wrap your legs around his waist again, and you feel him slide further into you.
Wrenching his mouth from yours, Harry pants, "What the fuck? Damn. I'm so.....fuck...."
With that incoherent thought, Harry starts moving inside of you. You've captured his eyes with yours. Threading his hands through yours, Harry traps both sets of hands over your head, thrusting steadily as you watch him. The sensation is excruciating as he slides along your walls, fucking you quickly. Suddenly, he stops again, and you move your hips to maintain the rhythm that was bringing you closer to your ultimate release.
"Harrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyy...." you whine once more.
But you don't have time to say more than that as Harry begins slower, more powerful thrusts into you. You need more. Just as this thought enters your brain, you feel the muscles start to bunch and clench. Harry adjusts his angle, turning you both sideways, and you are astounded at how different that simple adjustment feels. Biting your lip, you fight for Harry to release one of your hands; when he does, you use it to stroke his jaw, continuing the eye contact.
"I fucking love you, Harry Styles, more than there are waves in the ocean. More than there are grains of saaaannnnnnnddddd..." you whisper just as your orgasm overtakes you, and Harry shoots his streams into you, coating your walls as he grunts, "Love you more."
Wave after wave of exhilaration swamp you as Harry continues to fuck you through your orgasm, allowing you to ride the crest.
As you both descend from your high, Harry looks at you, and you know he's about to drop another really bad pun. Grinning so big that his dimple looks deeper than the ocean you were just swimming in, he laughs, "Water you doing tomorrow at this same time?"
Pausing for dramatic effect, you lean over him as you simultaneously move to straddle him. "You," you whisper, as your grin disappears and you nibble at his lips.
"Good answer," he sighs, capturing your mouth with his, "I'm sure I'll be feeling nauti."