Martin returned to the bedroom, lump-in-throat, his beautiful Celtic princess lain out on the bed, ready for his silent kiss. One of her beige-tanned knees was protruding, awkwardly, at a right-angle, from under the ruched candyfloss duvet, emphasising her sexual exhaustion. Her lover admired her maternal breasts heaving, gently, with the rhythm of her breathing, resting snugly in their quilted nest of furled down. Her nipples still erect, strawberry red, from having sex. He was struck dumb by her native Welsh beauty. Could almost hear the crash of the waves. Taste the smack of salt on her lips. Feel the sand on her skin. From when she first made love to him, clinching him, clamping him inside her, loving, stark naked on Morfa Dyffryn beach…

*****

Martin stood without using his arms, stripped off his olive t-shirt and shorts, and tested the sand with his toes. The heat was bearable. He flexed his biceps for Sian, stretched out on the beach mat, taking in the vista before him. The sky was clear, azurite blue, the sand tinged with ochre, liberally strewn with bladderwrack, flotsam, jetsam, amber froth, and plastic, along the tideline. The glass-clear water, slapping the shore in teasing ripples, heralds of the rare, becalmed sea, looked deceptively inviting. Not to Sian, though. Impish, elfish, Sian, dressed only in a soft turquoise cheesecloth dress, her arms, and legs bare, tanning under the searing hot summer sun.

Amaze me, Sian. You really do! Tell me girl, what’s going on it that strange mind of yours?

Martin Elazığ Escort cast his gingerbread brown eyes over the deserted beach. He and Sian had chosen well, nestling out of the cutting wind,

‘My Welsh Mistral!’ Sian proudly called it.

Nestling where the sandy dunes, stiff with marram grass, met the exposed foreshore. Nestling,

‘Our little love-nest, Martin!’ she laughed nervously, blushing.

He turned to face her. He couldn’t quite make her out. Her undying love for him. Despite his sinful tasks. The trust she placed in him. On many occasions. Her lonesome nights. When he played away. His endless overnight stays: ask-no-questions: discreet inns, guest houses, luxury hotels. All expenses paid. Ask-no-questions. He watched as she drew the hem of her crimped dress high, to the small of her slender back, pressing it to her front, lowering her head, showing him herself, revealing the fullness of her pale, bare rump, ever the Celtic maiden,

‘Look, see, I’m not wearing any knickers!’

Martin blew out his cheeks,

Sian! Don’t do this to me. Please, don’t do this to me! You’ll give me a bloody heart attack.

Sian lay flat on her back on the mat, ‘Well, darlin?’

He struggled for breath: her knowing allure, her wanton temptation, his guilt at all the women,

‘Coming in for a dip, Sian?’

She lifted the hem of her dress, ‘You know, I don’t like it when the water’s cold. You know, I like to stay warm. You know, I want a little baby, darlin. Don’t you Elazığ Escort Bayan think it’s time we tried?’

Martin ran to the sea, ran away from her: the guilt she racked up in his mind. His duplicity. The selfish way he treated her. His disdain. His total lack of respect for her. He shouted at her over his muscled shoulder,

‘Presently, Sian,’ was all he said, ‘Presently.’

He waded into the sea, splashing his barrel chest with freezing water, rinsing his arms and thighs, cooling his loins, and swam.

*****

The water never really warms off the Welsh coast. Within minutes of diving in, Martin was on his way back, wading, trudging through the shallows, sand between his toes, an oil blemish staining his right calf. Crude oil. Enjoying the heat of the sun on his shoulders, drying his torso. He padded as far as Sian – who had stood on her beach mat – and grabbed his towel. Sian wasn’t amused by his selfish act. She had a face like thunder. Her face was flushed red and angry, she stormed,

‘Enjoy that, did you? Feelin’ better now, are you? Get it off your chest, did you?’

Martin dried his hair, ‘Sorry? Get what off my chest?’

‘Whatever it is that’s bugging you.’

‘There’s nothing bugging me, Sian, okay?’ he stressed. Martin was usually stressed these days.

Sian threw her arms about in frustration. She could strangle him when he misbehaved like this. Strangle him!

‘Don’t give me that tosh. I know when you’re upset. I’m supposed to be your best friend, Escort Elazığ your wife, y’know,’ she stared down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes, trying to stay calm, ‘Though I wonder sometimes. Wonder about you.’

Her lover slowly drew his beach towel over his back of rippling muscles, back-and-forth, up-and-down. Women adored his back, the hairy-nest small of it, his tightly clenched buttocks. He was handsome, rugged, muscular, manly, attractive, well-built, but possessed the tenderness of a woman’s touch, their softness. Women loved that about Martin,

‘What do you mean, wonder?’

Sian fixed him with her hardest stare, ‘You’re always so quiet, Martin. Distant. As if you don’t love me anymore. Do you, darlin’? Do you love me?’

She pulled her dress off over her head. Martin marvelled at the lift and flop of her ample breasts, her sensitive, distended, rose-tipped nipples,

‘Of course, I love you, Sian. You mean the world to me.’

Sian was naturally beautiful, beautiful as the sun, sea, sand, and sky. He choked on his shameful deceit. How could he treat her like this? Martin watched eagerly as his woman arranged herself on the beach mat, her breasts heaving with passion, her soft tuft of pubic hair matt with sand. She opened her thighs for him, parting her damp curly hairs, her beige labia, with her fingertips, revealing her rawest flesh. Her voice took on a husky, sexy tone. She arched her body upwards.

Sian made him need her, ‘Then give me a little baby.’

Straining hard, bursting, Martin pulled down his wet trunks and went to her. He threw his body on top of hers, crushing her fulsome breasts, her rib cage, loving her moans and sighs of ecstasy as he mounted her, fucking her senseless, as she flailed her arms and legs, tearing at his buttocks until they bled…