Intimate Details - Surf, Sand, and Sun

Chapter 11 - Day 7

The next day was bright and sunny. Rarity woke, thankfully enough; without a hangover. Octavia emerged from the bathroom as she stirred, a toothbrush in her mouth. “Good morning, miss cardshark.”

“Oh shush.” Rarity yawned. “Yesterday was unprecedented.”

“I’ll say. You must have paid off the dealer. There’s no way you won that much without some help. Tell me, Rarity, did you blow that cute little dealer while I was off playing slots? Hmm?” Octavia straddled the bed and Rarity, still brushing her teeth with a devious grin.

“Oh yes, my love.” Rarity groaned. “I found her in the back and made her take those nice black slacks off so I could pilfer her coffers and secure my winnings with sixteen consecutive orgasms.”

“I knew it.” Octavia teased. She slowly fell to her knees and kissed Rarity. She nearly gagged as toothpaste filled her mouth, followed shortly by Octavia’s toothbrush. “You taste like stew and vomit. Brush up, and maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.” Rarity glared up at her and would have come back with a scathing remark if she didn’t have to brush first.

After she finished spitting into the sink and rinsing with mouthwash, Octavia met her on the threshold of the bathroom for a real kiss. Rarity felt awake, lucid, and charged up with energy. She wanted to do something active today. Something fun and exciting. When the kiss broke, she grinned and gave Octavia’s rear a firm squeeze. “Do you have anything you want to do today?”

“You know, I want to get outside. Go swimming or something. Ooh, maybe we could get those four-wheelers from Jason again? Maybe go back to the grotto?”

“That’s an idea.” Rarity smiled. An idea for the morning, perhaps. But she had something else in mind for that night. Something that involved clothing, or a lack thereof.

“I’ll give him a call. You should get dressed.” Octavia nipped at her collarbone before slipping away. Rarity shuddered at the feel of Octavia’s lips on her skin and went to go find some suitable workout clothes. She found jean shorts and a tank top. Octavia would have to settle for sweats, though, which was all they had that was clean. She would be sweltering on the hike to the grotto. Then again, the thought of all that sweat gave Rarity a whole new string of ideas.

“Tavi.” She called out. Octavia poked her head in from the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“Take your panties off.”

“Let me call you back, Jason.”

They were given free reign of the beach alone this time. Jason dropped off two four-wheelers for them, along with a map, in case they wanted to try a different grotto from last time. He guaranteed no one else would be venturing out that way today, so they would be alone, with no one around for at least seven miles. Octavia, blushing already, was wearing nothing but a sports bra, tank top, and sweats. Rarity wore her jean shorts and tank top, of course, but poor Octavia would be without panties. Why she even agreed to the dare, Rarity would never know. Still, she wasn’t about to question it or go back against her word. Carrying a pack filled with food and water, they climbed aboard the beastly four-wheelers, started their engines, and left Jason behind with a spray of sand and a joyful holler.

The day was burning hot. Even with their breakneck sprint down the beach, Rarity was still sweating. How well Octavia would be doing in her sweatpants, she could only guess. They raced the entire way, laughing and weaving through the surf. Rarity had never felt such freedom as when she was on the four-wheeler, with the wind whipping in her hair and the engine thrumming between her legs. Yesterday’s unpleasant upchuck was all but forgotten, replaced instead by exhilaration and desire. She and Octavia were both of like-mind. They wanted to get to the grotto as soon as possible.

“Wait up!” Rarity called to Octavia just as they left the sand for the dirt trail. Octavia slowed to a halt and Rarity pulled up beside her. “I’ll leave mine here. We can take the one down the path, if we ride double.”

“You’re just trying to get my legs around you, aren’t you?” Octavia asked, her lips curled in a devious grin.

“I don’t have to try, darling. You drive.” Rarity flipped the engine of her own quad runner off and mounted the other behind Octavia. She wrapped her wife tight and kissed the sweat-soaked back of her neck. The sprint down the beach had made them both sweaty. The slow crawl through the jungle would have them lathered. Octavia pulled ahead, moving slowly with two riders. They idled along the same path Jason had shown them, and turned onto the jungle path where the three of them had stopped last time. Before, walking shoulder-to-shoulder, they had had just enough room to fit on the jungle path. The four-wheeler fit, if only barely. Octavia had to focus to keep them on the path. Rarity had to focus on keeping her hands to herself.

Ultimately, she failed. They were moving slowly enough that she didn’t need to keep a firm hold on Octavia anyways. Gripping the quad with her thighs, Rarity gingerly lifted the hem of Octavia’s shirt, teasing the soft skin of her stomach beneath. “Hey,” Octavia protested. “Trying to drive here.”

“Try harder.” Rarity teased, dragging the very tips of her fingers over the expanse of sweaty flesh. Inside the jungle, it was sweltering. Rarity could feel sweat running in rivulets down her skin, soaking her jean shorts and tank top almost completely. Octavia wasn’t much better, with Rarity’s chest pressed against her back. Rarity watched as beads of perspiration trickled down her collarbone and neck, either to get lost in the brilliant mane of her hair, or to drip down her cleavage. Rarity’s hands became more and more bold as she began kissing the stray drops of sweat where she could catch them. Octavia’s knuckles were white as she gripped the handlebars of the quadrunner. Rarity caressed each inch, from the underside of Octavia’s bra down to the soaked waistline of her sweatpants.

“Haah…” Octavia panted, almost slowing to a crawl as they took the first left fork. Two more to go. Rarity smiled and leaned further forward, kissing the nape of Octavia’s neck now. The sweat on her lips was reminiscent of arousal, and even the smell seemed similar. She inhaled as deeply as she could, both of her hands peeling the sweatpants away from Octavia’s waist.

She could feel the wave of heat. It washed out of the pants in a rush. The contrast was striking; like standing on a snowy mountaintop and plunging your hand into the depths of the hottest jungle. The sweats were completely soaked through with sweat, and Octavia’s skin was as wet as if she had just stepped out of the shower. Rarity’s fingers slid over her skin with ease, exploring the molten depths of the restrictive pants.

“Rarity,” Octavia panted. “It’s so hot. Please. Can I take them off?”

“Not yet.” Rarity teased, whispering into her wife’s ear. “Keep your hands on the handlebars. Don’t move them.” Rarity’s own hands slid between her burning thighs, just barely teasing the edge of her slick core.

“Aah. Please.” Octavia whimpered. The throttle on the quadrunner wavered for a moment, and the front right tire nearly slipped off of the packed-dirt path. Rarity grinned and pulled away. She caressed Octavia’s wide thighs, further spreading the sweat around. It was so hot in her pants, Rarity could hardly believe it. This had been a very good idea. Grinning deviously, she continued to massage and caress Octavia’s thighs, even as they reached the second left fork.

They weren’t very far now. Rarity couldn’t wait any longer. With a grin, she slid one hand up the inside of Octavia’s thigh, pursed two fingers, and slid in. “HUUH!” Octavia gasped, her hand twitching on the throttle. They jumped forward, kicking up a gout of dirt behind them. Rarity gave a short, clipped cry and clamped tight to Octavia, which only served to drive her fingers deeper. Octavia grunted in a very un-ladylike manner and jammed the brakes. They lurched to a halt, which again caused Rarity to lean forwards, her breasts flattened against Octavia’s back.

“Why… Haah… Would you do that?!” Octavia panted, her entire body hunched over. Rarity couldn’t help but grin as she wiggled the fingers inside Octavia.

“Because it’s fun.”

“Rares, stop. Please.” Octavia whimpered, squirming on the seat now. “I’m… Really close.”

“Keep driving.” Rarity groaned, her fingers growing still. “I’m not going to make you cum unless we’re moving.” Her tone was low, full of lust and danger. Octavia knew Rarity couldn’t be reasoned with at times like this, so she just groaned and turned the throttle. They inched forwards, and Rarity continued toying with her wife. Only when Octavia opened her mouth in a breathless grunt of release did Rarity pull out. Her fingers were dripping with release and sweat. Octavia’s mouth made for the perfect receptacle. She gave another soft moan as she licked Rarity’s digits clean of the salty, musky liquid. They reached the third fork, the last before the grotto. Rarity settled her hands on Octavia’s sides, but kept kissing the back of her neck as they idled along the trail. Octavia was breathing heavily with her mouth open, clearly riled up and ready for more.

They finally arrived at the coarse sand beach. Rarity almost leaped off of the quadrunner. She and Octavia had like intentions. Almost too eagerly, they stripped clothes off, leaving the sodden garments on the sandy beach. Octavia beat her to the punch, not having to worry about wet denim or panties. Rarity wasn’t too far behind, flinging her sports bra back at the quad as she sprinted after Octavia.

The cellist thundered through the shallows and leapt far out into the crystal-clear water. Rarity dove in maybe five seconds later, both of them stroking hard for the flat rock underneath the fall that fed the pool. A dull heat, different from the jungle’s oppressiveness, began to build in Rarity’s core. She could feel it pulsating, from her crotch to her brain. She stroked harder, willing herself to catch up to Octavia.

They met atop the rock. In a tangle of limbs, breath, lips, and groans, they collapsed on the smooth rock with water thundering down upon them. Rarity was filled with a dire need. Satisfaction, pleasure, and the exchange of passion. Octavia gripped her shoulders, pulling her tight. After the muggy ride through the jungle, the misty water was a cool relief. But the cool sensation was the furthest from her mind. Rarity was focused solely on Octavia, and the vast expanse of delicious, warm flesh beneath her. More than that, though, was Octavia’s heart. Beneath all the flesh, the raven-black hair, her amber eyes and her skilled fingers; beneath the exterior lay something else entirely.

Her wife.

Rarity pulled away, looking down at Octavia’s eyes, and she spoke the three words that had come to mean more to her than any others in her life.

“I love you.”

Octavia answered her with a kiss. And another. And another after that. The kisses began to melt into one another, until they all became one long, passionate exchange. Rarity didn’t know when it happened, but at some point Octavia’s fingers slid between her legs, probing her heated, desperate core. A shuddering orgasm gripped her senses, making her gasp and quiver. The water fell down all around them, and all-inclusive shower. Rarity could seldom get a breath without the water streaming from her face, covering her entire body. It was not unlike making love in the shower, just with more water and much more intense sensations. Octavia moaned and suckled on her neck until the gripping waves of pleasure receded. It was Rarity’s turn then.

Octavia spread her legs open, allowing Rarity to kiss down the front of her body. The rock was wide enough to admit them both, and the sound of the water falling on the smooth surface drowned out anything else. Octavia’s flesh tasted of sweat and brackish water, making Rarity moan with anticipation. She descended further and further, opening her mouth to nip and suck at whatever bits of Octavia’s breasts and stomach she could. It didn’t take her long to finish her downward journey, though. She was too eager to get to the best part. With an open-mouthed groan of desire, she dove in.

Octavia’s moan carried over the sounds of the waterfall.Rarity could taste the arousal and water on her wife’s delicious vagina, further spurring her movements. She licked, sucked, and probed with every bit of experience she had. Her tongue would lash out to assault Octavia’s clitoris, sending the cellist into a fit of loud cries and twitches. After driving her to the edge, Rarity would plunge her tongue deep inside Octavia, spreading her delightfully pink lips wide and probing the soft, twitching depths between. That was when Octavia would cry out the loudest, her hands buried in Rarity’s purple hair firmly. The desperate grip would only drive Rarity on, making her lick and moan harder.

She lost track of time. Only when Rarity’s knees began to hurt from the solid rock did she finally pull away, her sodden hair clinging to her neck and shoulders as she hovered over a panting, soaked, grinning Octavia. They kissed again, tangling arms and legs together as fully as possible. Rarity almost squealed when Octavia turned them over. They plunged into the frothing waters together, wrapped tight. The white-noise sound of the waterfall became Rarity’s world. That, and the amazing woman wrapped in her arms. The pool was close to twenty feet deep here, and with their legs tangled tight, they slowly sunk through the cool, clear water.

It was heaven. Rarity was floating in the water with her arms and legs wrapped around her wife, kissing one another for what felt like an eternity. They were alone here, suspended, peaceful, and naked as the day they had been born.

It might have been a minute or a year before they surfaced again. Panting, flushed, and grinning stupidly, both women tread water opposite one another, simply happy to be together.

“Again?” Octavia asked breathlessly.

“Again.” Rarity stroked forward, wrapped her wife in her arms, and took the plunge once more.

It was well past noon by the time they decided to leave. After sunbathing to dry off, they slipped into sweat-stained clothes and mounted the quadrunner to leave their private little grotto. Rarity took one last look over her shoulder at the tranquil pool, the gentle waterfall they had made love under, and the coarse sand beach they laid on for so long. As the stifling jungle enveloped them, she lost sight of it. In the back of her mind, Rarity made a promise to herself. She would return here with Octavia one day. Rain, shine, or bankruptcy, they would come back to this place.

They drove a little slower down the beach on their way back, enjoying the endless sea stretching out to their left. At one point, they stopped and ate a short lunch of sandwiches and water. After that, though, they arrived at the bungalow in short order. Rarity had tried her hardest to not be tired for her plans that night, but as the bungalow’s door closed behind her, she felt the cool sheets calling her name. She was loathe to sleep, but a nap was most definitely in order. She stripped out of her sweaty clothes and took a quick, cool shower before stretching out beside Octavia. They napped for about three hours, and the sun was setting on the waves when she finally awoke. It seemed Octavia had already risen, though, by the sounds coming from the kitchen. Rarity shrugged into a bathrobe and peeked her head in on her wife.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Octavia teased, smiling at Rarity. Much to her surprise, Octavia was still nude, standing in front of the oven with a spatula in-hand. One of the roll-up walls was opened to the sea, and the soft sound of the waves breaking on the shore was the soundtrack to their evening. Rarity felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she entered the kitchen proper, ogling Octavia’s bare body. Even in the post-nap grogginess, she felt her own desire build to a head. Her plans came back to mind, and the blush intensified. Her embarrassment forgotten, Rarity shrugged out of her robe and slipped up behind Octavia. The cellist’s bare skin was like butter beneath her fingers, smooth and creamy. Octavia leaned back into Rarity’s arms, turning her head for a soft, passionate kiss.

“I have a present for you. More myself, but you’re going to be the one wearing it.” Rarity whispered, still holding Octavia from behind. Octavia grinned deviously at her.

“It’s in that garment bag you brought along, isn’t it? I wondered why there was a lock on it.”

“I’ve been saving it.” Rarity admitted, her hands laying flat on Octavia’s stomach. “Would you indulge me?”

“Gladly. But not until I eat something and get cleaned up.” Octavia kissed her again, this time taking a moment to poke her tongue into Rarity’s mouth playfully. “Can you wait until dinner’s over?”

“Maybe.” Rarity moaned, kissing Octavia’s collarbone. Truth be told, she could wait for a century if it meant she got to see Octavia in that outfit. Octavia smiled and nudged Rarity’s hips.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Why don’t you make us some drinks? I ordered an alcohol pack yesterday. See what they brought us.” Octavia’s voice betrayed her excitement. As much as Rarity enjoyed making dresses and having Octavia wear them, Octavia enjoyed her ‘reward’ for being Rarity’s personal mannequin. As Rarity went to browse their selection of alcohol, she reflected on the piece she had made for tonight.

Rarity’s prime fetish didn’t come from orgasms or suggestively-designed clothes, or even erotic and unusual poses. Prior to tonight, she and Octavia had indulged in some of her other favorite bedroom pastimes, but they hadn’t quite reached the key one just yet. For Rarity, it wasn’t about giving and receiving pleasure. It wasn’t about kisses or vaginas or feminine ejaculate. It wasn’t about breasts and flat stomachs and large rears.

Rarity’s utmost sexual desire was in clothing. Specifically, putting them on and taking them off. From the first time she saw someone even remotely appealing, Rarity’s mind began clothing them immediately. Her vision came to life in the measurements she could determine at a glance, usually in the form of ballroom dresses and high-class apparel. Though with Octavia, it manifested in revealing and scanty clothing that accentuated and defined Octavia’s brilliant hips and thighs. Designing anything for the cellist was a challenge, but one that Rarity took to willingly. From simple and utilitarian pair of jeans to complex masterpieces of lace and silk, Rarity had designed and manufactured every stitch of Octavia’s wardrobe. She particularly enjoyed dressing and undressing her wife in all the different outfits she had made, but this one…

This one was something special. It had taken her a total of forty-three hours to assemble the piece, and she had done so out-of-pocket, in the privacy of their home while Octavia practiced or was busy recording at the studio. Rarity had a flair for integrating precious gemstones into her tailoring, but this time around she had gone without. Instead, every single stitch of lace, every last hem, the tiniest detail in the smallest fold of fabric; it had all been done by Rarity’s hand. No one knew the intimate details of this dress, or of Octavia; half as well as Rarity did.

She could barely contain her excitement.

She settled on margaritas.