Golden sun covered the turquoise sea, white waves brushing the sand heading out from the line where she knelt, scooping great pits there just below where the fluffy white stuff I was sat upon merged with the firm apron of beige. Oblivious to those around her, she worked at her play, building with her chosen medium.

I watched her from the lazy comfort of our sheet, spread upon the heated sand. My face pillowed on crossed arms, just slivers of my sunglasses were visible peeking up to gaze down on her content and much loved face as she scrunched her nose. Concentration evident in her drawn eyebrows, she sat there with her hair rising in the wind behind her, fanning its silk in the afternoon sun, shimmering as her halo.

Waves sighed against the sand and whispered their retreat, lulling me to sleep. I watched the progression of the castle, the towers assembled, their pinnacles decorated with bits of broken shell shining their pale pink centers in arches. Her slender fingers selected each piece with deliberation.

My eyes watched in hypnotized fascination as she moved about, felt the sun press its blanket over me, while the breeze buffeted just enough to keep it comfortable. My eyes felt weighted down; bobbing closed, opened through will, then falling shut again. Her frame silhouetted, she wandered the wet edge of the withdrawn sea searching for the right pieces. My closed eyes watched her in imagination, as my breathing smoothed, relaxed in to long sighs.

Slim legs, leading up to narrow swell of her hips, dark against the golden sky, her bare feet slipped over softly denting turf. Entering the canyon of her excavation, up the moat, to the faded grey driftwood drawbridge, I floated behind her. My legs and head remained pillowed in the sand, but my spirit was freed to flow wherever it chose.

Her feet slapped against the smooth wood, bright paint shining on nubs of toes. Floating behind her, I could not help but notice how her skin dimpled just above her bikini bottoms. Her hands full of shells, shiny pinks and whites that swirled in contrast with her tanned skin.

Over the moat we crossed, through the arch of the wall, past a dappled courtyard, to the foot of the tallest of the tower, green seaweed stripes curving gently round it, spiraling up in to the sun. A small shell border rounded the top of the door, a blue green swirled rock that swung easily on unseen hinges at the touch of her fingers.

A set of stairs ran along the wall following the curve, and she set out, climbing round and up. endless rows of little pieces of driftwood set into the wall with a green seaweed railing. The curve lifted seemingly endless, but she climbed on those lean legs tirelessly. Round and round we went higher and higher, sunlight glinting pink through mother of pearl windows. On we climbed, ascending till the wood steps flattened out and became a room.

She moved immediately to the edges of a swirling mural, the colors muted browns, pinks, even blacks and greys. small pebbles intersecting with the bits of shell. Floating to the window I looked out at the wisps of clouds, the deep turquoise of the water, and the white sand below. Leaning to look out, I could see the dark speck of our sheet, my body still stretched out on it.

Abandoning the view of my reclined body, I let my sight rove over the round little room, little cubbies hugged the wall, a few open drawers displaying contents of an active mind. Paints, pencils in a rainbow of colors, a sheath of paper, books stacked on a corner, a rocking chair piled with cushions. It was obviously a place of the heart, and I instinctively knew that it would never have been opened to me if it wasn’t for the love she bore me and I her.

Nimble fingers pressed the stones into the sand of the wall continuing the pattern, carrying it farther, round in swirls the dark grey lines picking out the simple pattern and the nude pinks and browns adding complexity.

I looked at her slim waist and felt the draw of my finger down the curve of her spine. All her loveliness seemed summed up more in that one innocent touch then in all the obscene ones we have shared.

I stooped to nuzzle against the cream of her skin. Brushing my unseen lips across the small of her back, I felt her tremble. She never startled though, and she didn't cry out questioning who was touching her; thus confirming my impression that she knew that it was I who knelt behind her, my fingers clasping her at the apex of her hips.

Her lips released a sigh, that I hadn't even realized she had been holding, her body relaxing under my fingertips. My tongue pushed through worshiping lips, to trace across her peachy skin, tasting the salt spray of the ocean. Ghostly hand ran in a long stroke along her flank, enjoying the goose pickles that rose from my touch, lips and tongue still brushing the hallow above crest of her ass.

The innocent seeming girl I held let out a shuddering groan and leaned back against me, her legs parting. I ran my hands down her legs, enjoying the satin smooth skin under my fingers and lips. My thumbs stroked back up the center of those dreamy thighs, teasing touches where the skin is softest.

She whimpered and wiggled in my hands, obviously pleased with the attention. My lips moved to join my thumbs kissing her parted thighs, trailing a tongue across the moisture that beaded and dripped from her lips to run down her thighs. I caught her taste with my phantom tongue and followed the trail, the fruit flavor bursting in my mouth and exciting my spirit.

Her small bikini bottoms saturated at the center, a light teal that showed the darkening spread that leaked down her leg. I slid my thumbs along the flat of her thigh, up to out thrust hips from which strings hung like confetti.

Ran them under those slender threads and teased the skin there, before catching the dangling string to tug and release, tumbling down lean legs to puddle on the floor.

My hands plunged on, invisible face caught in an expression of anticipation and wonder. Squeezing the globes of her ass, the flesh yielded to my hard fingers as I lifted and spread her wide. As I knew it would, the pinching finger’s pull on the skin left visible slickness spreading over her soft wide lips.

Bending forward at the waist and placing my tongue there at the font, I drew it through the clinging wet, brushing against the little protected hood. Her body stiffened again under me, and I wondered what she felt, how my phantom touch felt on her heated flesh.

Placed my lips around her slit, I sucked gently, watching for the reaction I knew and loved so well. Catching her lips with my teeth, I tugged gently, then more incessant, hands on her hips pulling them towards me. She tipped from the waist forward, elbows catching in the sand walls, leaving impressions on the otherwise smooth grain her fingers rested on.

Releasing her bitten lips, I kissed them gently, lavishing my love on their tenderized surface. Tongue bathed each sore place, knowing I would put more hurt there soon. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she wiggled beneath my administrations.

Dropping kisses like rain along her thighs, I worked my way back to her sweet sex, teasing her. The fruity smell of her cunt mingled in the sea air, and I could taste the salt sea on her skin. It was an intoxicating brew and I was an addict. My tongue licked and teased, leading me to the very pit of that peach. I licked and lapped at the seam, sucking the nectar, feeling the drip as the sticky sweet juice ran from my chin.

Her moans became little mews and she spread her knees, obedient, having been in this position with me before. I had not a doubt that she knew the tongue bathing her, running its rough surface across her sweet snatch as she wiggled and squirmed, her little sounds spurring me on, knowing what she liked from me.

My fingers stroked through her pearly pink center, slickening and moving faster as it gathered thick cords of viscous juice. They built up around my fingers as they plunged in and out, surrounded by pulsing velvet walls. The strands crashed and broke on my face covering me with her scent.

Lifting and spreading her ass, I dove my tongue in, smoothing and tonguing the ring, feeling with the shiny slick skin, sliding my tongue across it before pushing in. I stroked and licked, hands squeezing and pummeling her soft skin.

She was moaning under my assault, familiar sounds that I loved to hear. I had my hand to her neck, pulling her down harder to my face, and I could feel her breath hitch under my fingers. Her walls were crushing my fingers, I knew it wouldn’t be long now.

How I ached to talk to her, but I knew she’d not hear my ghostly words urging her on. Mine was a silent attack. My tongue stroked past my driving fingers down to run across the now hard clit. I stroked it softly, once, twice, three times. Its hard surface tempting me to nip softly with teeth, to press into it, to feel the way her body stiffened. My tongue flicked the bit of the bud caught in my teeth.

She cried out, piercing ache in that plaintive moan, and I knew she wanted to hear me tell her how I wanted her come on my face. Fingers curved in her hot box, I stroked the front and hoped she knew how much I needed her. Her hand scrambled against the wall, and her body rose up as she pressed down on tip toes.

My hand, my face and my lips were soaked as she arched her back, and cried out to God. Licking and sucking, I drank the peach juice that she offered as if it were my last. My fingers cramped, smashed together in the vise of her cunt. She bucked and humped her pussy against my sucking lips, violence in her hips. My tongue soothed the ache, knowing that as her movements slowed, so too would her heartbeat that I felt pounding.

Her wails turned to mews again and her ragged, heavy breathing slowed. I licked her thigh, chasing the wet from her knee to her snatch, and I felt the muscles give up their tension. Her body rested weakly against the sand, a sweet smile on her teeth marked lips.

My hands stroked her thighs and contemplated if this was heaven. Her eyes were shut to the evening sun that painted the room rosy, and I closed mine to rest my head on the sweet curve of her buttocks. We swayed, there, leaning on the wall.

Our breathing slowed to normal and still we cuddled in our dreamy state, my arms around her, her scent surrounding me. It felt as if the whole room was shuddering with my love for this beautiful girl. I held her tight and felt the earth move.

We were tumbling, clutching each other, sliding along the wall. The pink shell tower was melting and we were falling with it. Water was swirling at the base of the sand and I grabbed for a driftwood stair. We rode the wall down, splashing to the floor, the retreating wave swirling around our feet. I tugged her hand, pulling her up, and we raced through the stone door for the courtyard.

All around us the castle was collapsing, melting. I heard the roar just as the water from yet another wave raced up through the breach in the walls to cross the courtyard, splashing my feet with its bath warm wetness.

The water on my feet startled me, jerked me awake blinking at the bright sun. Stretching, I saw my girl, perched on heels, her face flushed as she looked over at me, sadness in her eyes. I licked my lips, tasting peach nectar.

“The tide’s coming in,” she acknowledged, “my tower is gone.”