The sun is high, the champagne is vintage, and the only thing missing from this picture-perfect afternoon is the heavy, slick sensation of your hands all over my skin. You see, being a rich slut isn’t just about the designer bikinis or the private cabanas; it’s about the exquisite pleasure of being watched while I get exactly what I want.
Voyeur Beach Sex fantasies always start just like this, with the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing in the background and the heat of the midday sun turning my skin into a glowing, golden canvas that’s begging for your undivided attention. I’ve already drawn a crowd of envious onlookers from the shoreline, but I only have eyes for you and the bottle of expensive bronzing oil sitting between your thighs.
I want you to start at my ankles, let your palms slide up my long, tanned legs while I arch my back against the plush white lounge chair. Don’t be shy about the audience, darling; their stares only make my pulse race faster, and the more they gawk, the more I want you to claim every inch of me.
By the time you reach my thighs, I want my skin dripping, reflecting the light like a polished diamond, making it impossible for anyone to look away from the sheer decadence of the moment. I’m a high-maintenance masterpiece, and I expect to be treated with the kind of slow, deliberate worship that makes the strangers nearby lose their breath.
As your hands move higher, grazing the edge of my silk bikini, you’ll find that the sun isn’t the only thing making me sizzle. I want you to be thorough, massaging that thick, fragrant oil over my stomach and up toward my chest until I’m glistening from head to toe. I also want you to massage my body just how I would massage your balls with my wet jaws.
The friction, the scent, and the thrill of being handled in plain sight are enough to drive me over the edge. I’ll let my knees fall open just a fraction, giving you… and anyone lucky enough to have binoculars… a teasing glimpse of my perfectly smooth, shaved wet pussy, already slick with anticipation and the rising heat of the afternoon.
This isn’t just a tan, it’s a performance. I want to feel the weight of your touch and the burn of a thousand eyes as you finish the job, leaving me completely oiled up and ready for whatever happens when we finally retreat to the privacy of the yacht. You’ve served your purpose as my favorite accessory today, and now it’s time for me to show you exactly how a rich girl says thank you when she’s been properly pampered in the sun.
















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