Hawaiian Valentine

"I want the cliché," she'd told him, and now here it was. Better than a romance novel or chick flick. The only thing missing was the soft focus.

Jo smiled, loving every second of her clichéd experience. They were strolling along a pristine beach, hand in hand. The sun was sinking majestically into the ocean, streaking the western sky with orange and crimson. The sea breeze was light and cool, the water was warm, and the sand between their toes was silken. They were alone with the sunset.

Of course, this kind of cliché doesn't come cheap. Jo and Michael had been saving for over a year to finance this holiday. The airfares were OK but the private beach house on Maui was the real killer. Michael had nearly fainted when he first saw how much it was all going to cost.

She didn't care. This was what she'd wanted - a chance to experience Valentine's Day in the sun, relaxing and sharing Michael's company. No work, no mobile phones, no computers, just each other.

They'd breakfasted on fruit and pancakes before retiring back to bed for a long session of languid lovemaking. They'd gone snorkeling on the reef, had lobster for lunch and taken an afternoon nap. Now they were taking the obligatory sunset walk, and it was beautiful.

She laughed and gave him a hug. "Well, it's wonderful. It's like the most perfect, romantic Valentine's Day ever."

"Yes," Michael's smile was wry. "By all accounts we are the most in-love couple on the face of the planet right now." He grinned, and winked. Michael liked to be ironic, though she knew he was having just as much fun as she.

He squeezed her hand. "You wanted the cliché and I think you've been very successful with it."

"Well, I worked hard to get this cliché right."

He laughed. "Tell me, are they ever nude in the official romantic-walk-with-sunset cliché?"

She thought for a moment, shook her head. "I don't think so. Most of those romantic scenarios are very sedate."

Michael let out a snort. "To hell with that, then!" Abruptly he dropped his swimming shorts and stood naked before her, the rays of the descending sun making his skin glow orange.

Caught up in the moment, Jo followed suit, giggling. Suddenly she felt like a wild teenager, relentlessly alive and eager for pleasure.

With a whoop Michael ran for the water, plunging in up to his waist and splashing about like a madman. She was only a few steps behind him, diving into the welcoming waves. She relished the feel of ocean against her bare skin, swirling against her breasts and between her legs like a liquid lover. Kicking and splashing at each other, they lost themselves in the moment, chuckling and panting.

And then Jo flung herself into his arms, kissing him hungrily, tasting the salt on his lips, wanting to devour him. His hands were on her buttocks, grasping them and pulling them apart, kneading her flesh with urgency. They fell together into the shallows, wrapped in each other, enjoying the feel of slippery skin and wet sand.

He laughed. "Look. Now we're doing From Here To Eternity!"

She giggled and kissed him again before leaping up and bounding away. "How about this then? I'm doing a road runner. If you want me, you'll have to catch me!"

She raced away, laughing like a little girl, with Michael close on her heels. It didn't take long for him to tackle her, and they spent several minutes wrestling in the sand. Finally he had her pinned, his hands holding her wrists to the ground, panting.

She looked happily up into his eyes. The sun was behind him, haloing his head with orange light. She pulled him down and kissed him again, hugging him to her.

"This feels kinda clichéd too," he mused after a while. "I think it's time I did something different."

"Like what?"

"Spread your legs for me."

With a smile, she obeyed. Her skin was coated with sand, but her cunt was smooth and moist. He knelt between her legs, lowered his mouth to her mound and began gently licking.

Jo drew in her breath with a shudder. His warm tongue on her clit was exquisite. She forgot the sand, forgot the sunset, forgot the cliché. Suddenly her world became his lips and his sensual, flicking tongue, working magic against her quivering flesh.

She buried her hands in his sandy hair and pressed him into her pussy. "Oh... God... yes! Oh Michael... lick... me... make me come, baby..."

He applied himself with gusto, licking and sucking her soft folds, knowing just the right speed and pressure for maximum results.

Her orgasm was expansive, rolling in like a king tide, making her shudder beneath his mouth, gasping and uttering sweet profanity as the joy swept through her.

He sat up and looked at her face, now relaxed and diffuse with pleasure.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart," he said.

She smiled and pulled him to her, kissing and hugging him with gratitude.

"Oh, honey. You're better than any romance cliché!" she said softly. "Let's go back to our room so I can suck your cock."

He smiled. "Is that how most romance novels end?"

"No, not really."

"Oh. Pity."

The sun set as they walked arm in arm back down the beach.

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