Gromet's PlazaBuried Stories

Buried at the Beach: Never Too Much

by Hyram

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© Copyright 2023 - Hyram - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; bedtie; cuffs; toys; buried; sand; blindfold; breathplay; climax; rom; cons; XX

He walked into the bedroom in the morning light. She was on her knees, hands splayed forward on the bed, stretching for all the world like a giant cat. Her back arched and her buttocks proudly displayed, her perhaps too long hair spilling over the edge of the bed, despite her being in the center.

“Hello, dear,” he said, striding to the dresser and sliding open its top drawer. “I have a gift for you.”

“Do you?” she asked, still in cat pose. “I bet I know what it is.”

“Really,” he said, removing the small, gift wrapped box and tossing it beside her on the bed, bow and all. Her hand snatched out and she flipped brusquely onto her back, wrapping herself from head to belly button in auburn locks. He watched her as she made a space for her mouth and nose. “Without even looking?”

“Vibrator,” the disembodied lips said, followed by a grin of disembodied teeth.

“Without even opening it.”

“I go through your things,” and she squeaked as he tickled her bare foot. “You have broad and exquisite tastes.” Her fingers worked at the wrappings, soon revealing a modest box whose color must have been puce. It took her some fiddling with the edges but, as he walked around the edge of the bed, she managed to open the lid.

As she pulled the oblong object from its trappings, he placed a hand on her covered breast. She gasped, perhaps at both things. “You’re very quiet.” And she licked her lips.

“What else have you discovered?” he asked as he found her nipple beneath her pile of hair, gently tapping it with his fingertip.

“Recently?” She placed the new toy on her belly and slid her hands under the pillows at the top of the bed. Beyond the pillows to the ironwork headboard. “Just these.” And of a sudden her back was arched, and her hands well above her head, holding a pair of soft cuffs, connected to themselves around one of the iron rungs of the bed.

He was astride her in an instant and she giggled at the shock of his weight. She felt his hardened member against her breast as he leaned to fasten her wrists. He moved down her and pressed his mouth against hers and she was gasping afterward. “And I also found,” she said between breaths, “something for the other end of the bed.” And his fingers traced a line down her body, over her wetness, leaving a streak down the inside of her leg to her calf. Her leg stretched until it was pointed at the corner of the bed where another cuff was lying on the covers.

In the end, she was spread apart on the bed, open to his caresses, the power of the new toy, and she may, in the end, have screamed a bit when he finally entered her and the orgasm struck like thunder and rolled through her body. All before breakfast.

The pair found a secluded stretch of sandy beach. They placed their various belongings, towels, sandals, backpack, on the sand. She sat down, unfolded the towel, flipped to her stomach, and laid down, chin on her crossed wrists.

“I’m not sure I’m going to help you.”

“You seemed fairly interested in the idea earlier.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong.” She turned to her side and propped her head on her hand. “I’m very interested. Maybe I just want to see your efforts.” She grinned up at him. Her hair was in a tight bun in honor of the sand and salt water. It made her smile seem like it had more teeth than usual.

“As you will.” He turned and unceremoniously knelt. With two hands cupped together, he plunged his fingers into the sand and pulled a pile away. After a few minutes of digging, he noticed that she couldn’t really sit still. She kept rolling over, crossing and uncrossing her legs. More than fidgeting, outright restless. He paused, sighed.

“Problem?” he asked.

“There is a reason,” she began, lying face up, steadfastly not looking at him, “that I let you tie me up so often.”

“I see. This would go quicker if I had your help.” He watched her as she visibly came to a decision, flipped herself around, and crawled over to the edge of the hole he’d been crafting. She seemed visibly surprised.

“You haven’t been idle.”

“No, I have not. Not nearly ready however.” He watched her as her eyes glossed over a bit, only half focused on his handiwork. He thought a moment. “Care to size it up?”

She hesitated, coming back to herself. “I would, in fact.” And she stepped down into the hole, placed her hands on either side and kicked her feet out to sit. Her toes had free reign with her legs stretched out and her knees slightly splayed. The depth came to her waist and it was wide enough that she couldn’t touch the sides with her elbows. “Roomy,” she said.


“What now?” she asked, still fidgeting.

“We keep digging. Ways to go yet.”

“Is there? We didn’t discuss specifics. Something about me being buried in the sand, unable to move, all while I play with my new toy. Does this,” she gestured at her circumstance, “not allow for that?”

“You know it doesn’t. I’d need to wrap you in plastic in order to keep you in this hole.”

“And?” she smirked. “You didn’t bring any?”

“Enough,” he said, recalling when he last wrapped her in plastic. “You keep digging by your feet and I’ll dig where your bottom will sit. We’ll meet in the middle.”

And so it went, working alongside sarcastic comments and groans of frustration as sand collapses and, perhaps purposeful, body checks were the norm. Eventually, she stood, put her hands on her hips, and let out a sigh.

“This is what I was afraid of,” she said, nearly hip deep standing straight up. “I’ve gone from near frantic expectation of a horrendous orgasm to a measly pout of concern that I’ve dug my own grave. This is,” she gestured at the piles of sand surrounding them, “a lot of sand.”

He stood as well and used his finger on the tip of her chin to turn her face up to his. “Well,” he said, wrapping an arm firmly about her waist and pulling her tight against his body. He bent to kiss her and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers. “I could blindfold you, I suppose,” and she felt each syllable against her skin.

“That might work,” she whispered back, pondering. “Since you left the clingfilm at home, I can’t imagine you’ve brought a blindfold.”

“Oh, come now.” He kissed her firmly and her body responded, pressing itself against hers. Moments passed and she stepped back for air. She felt her hair spill over her shoulders, slipping down her back, over her breasts and arms, the ends floating above her knees.

“That always tickles. I like it.” She tossed her head and her tresses rippled. “You’ll need to wash it for me after this.” She made a show of running her hands from her shoulders down the front of her body, coyly tucking her hair between her legs. “It will be a complete mess.”

“Undoubtedly,” he replied, grinning himself. “There are, of course, some preliminaries.” He climbed, awkwardly, out of the hole, somewhat succeeding in not caving it all in.

“I’ll just wait here,” she said, tugging on her locks. He fussed with the backpacks, returning with some obviously useful accouterments.

“Thigh cuffs. Clever you.”

“Clever me. Recall the ‘unable to move’ portion of today’s dialogue.”

“Mmmm…fair enough. Do your worst.” He leapt into the hole, it really was quite deep, and did the deed, leaving her wrists fastened to her thighs by two pairs of soft cuffs. She pulled her hands in front of her, tugging slightly. “Hopelessly stuck. May I have my new present?”

He handed it to her and she immediately pressed its button, setting a gentle hum into the air. She turned away from him, tossed her hair behind her and nestled her buttocks against his crotch. Looking over her shoulder, she pressed the vibrator between her legs. Reflexively, he grabbed her hips while she wiggled them. “Just a little warm up,” she said, and her knees clamped together as she pressed harder against him. It wasn’t long at all before he was painfully hard and she was moaning under her breath. Suddenly she stood and turned to him, the humming vibrator forgotten in her hand. Her face was flushed and her hair wild.

“Okay,” she said, taking deep breaths. “If this doesn’t happen right now I’m just going to have you take me in this hole.” Her cuffed wrists jingled as she tried to reach her face to move her hair from her eyes and lips. She bent fully over and threw her head back, near four feet of auburn waves soaring overhead and toppling around her body. “Better,” she said, though it was nary an improvement, as all but her face remained covered by her hair.

“Now out,” and she tried to shoo him with her restrained hands which was rather amusing. Using not a bit of acrobatics, he managed to excavate himself with no damage to the project. She shuffled to the middle of the hole, looked up at him. “I believe you have the blindfold?”

“I do,” he said. She turned her back and he placed the black blindfold over her eyes, securing it behind her head. She slowly turned and impressively moved back to the center, even facing the right way. “Can I sit?”

“Indeed. If you squat, that’ll place your bottom near the back wall.” She did so, trying somewhat to navigate with the little movement the thigh cuffs granted. Finally, her back was resting against the wall, her legs out in front, slightly bent, more than a little spread. Her bound hands she placed between her legs, looking like a male subway car rider.

“Hell,” she said with a sigh.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I am, of course, sitting on my hair. I can look up,” and she bumped her head against the sandy back wall, “or not. But not down.” And she demonstrated her range of motion which indeed was lacking. “I think it would be difficult to get out by myself even without our burial scheme in play.” He couldn’t see her eyes of course but he heard it in her voice – a little mischievous desire.

“Well, we could stop here…”

“Oh no. No no. You likely can’t see it, dear, but I am indeed all a-tremble at the thought of what’s to come. I am too ready to play.”

“Then I will commence henceforth.”

Blindfolded, a moment of stillness was experienced by our damsel, before the lightest trickle of sand tippled onto her belly. And then nothing for a long moment. She sighed, visibly.

“You’re teasing me now.”

“I am,” he replied and she could hear the smirking in his voice.

“Well, if you’re going to take your time, I’ll find myself something to bolster my patience.” And with that, the vibrator in her hand began buzzing again.

“Are you certain you won’t come too soon? It’s the adventure, after all.”

“Dear,” she began, but when she slid the humming toy between her legs, she gasped at the unexpected burst of pleasure. Her lips parted and her breath came heavy. “Dear. It’s highly likely, in the state I’m in, that I’ll be coming many times.”

“As you say,” replied, his voice coming from in front of her now.

As her libido sparked with the machinations of her new present, she squeaked as a not small amount of sand landed heavily on her feet. Such was her surprise that she spontaneously tried to jerk her toes away. Her knees, already resting against the walls, dug in perhaps a little too firmly into the sand and, with a sound not unlike “whump”, the walls collapsed and she was unceremoniously buried to her breasts. 

“Oh my,” she heard him say. “Much quicker than you’d imagined, I suspect.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she breathed, obviously distracted. “I seem to have pinned,” and she bit her lip as a shudder ran through her, “my new toy against my…oooh…” and perhaps a mild expletive escaped her lips at this point. She squirmed her shoulders and let out a low growl as she appeared to try to lower her face. “Gods…hair still has me trapped…”

She felt more sand fall against her chest, the weight becoming even greater against her cuffed fingers. It was all a bit much, reflexively wanting to free her hands, which were cuffed to her legs, which she couldn’t move at all at the moment. She was pinned by her hair upright to the wall behind her, unable to even flex against the throbbing in her groin.

“Okay,” she said, her voice a breathy sound.

“Okay what?” he replied softly, sending another cascade of sand to fall under her collarbone, only her shoulders exposed now.

“Okay,” she breathed again, higher. “Okay, okay, oooooh…” and her mouth briefly fell open in a breathless scream and it was very visible when she reactively attempted to fling her head forward only to have it frustratingly held in place. Almost a slingshot of the sudden tug on her scalp, her head went into the back wall, already precariously constructed, and tipped the surrounding mounds of sand into the hole.

The top of her auburn head had been just below the rim of her little pit. She had inadvertently freed the rather large pile of sand that had been looming over her. It cascaded over her hair, falling quickly to the sides (and even a touch down her nose) and burying her shoulders.

And her neck.

And her chin.

Even so, and maybe because it was so, she was still in the beginnings of what would certainly be a “horrendous orgasm”. Filter off, the F word on repeat, her voice rising higher as the sand rose higher. The flow of grains slipped around her cheeks, touched her bottom lip as she tried to force her head away from the encroaching piles. All the while, behind her blindfold her eyes were squinched shut as the flood of pleasure in her body grew.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuhh…” and a brief squeal cut off as the sand slipped into her mouth, which she quickly clamped shut, and kept falling in front of her. A whine from her nose, rising in pitch, stopped as she sucked in air, only to continue until the pour of sand flowed around her temples, across her blindfold, and for a few moments, even from under the sand her vocals carried on, her in the throes of thunderous orgasm.

Finally, the sand stopped, she was completely covered, only perhaps a reddish shock of hair standing left exposed.

He left her there, for a moment, or a few, until the layer of sand began to shiver where she was and he knew she was through the storm and needed air. It was a few scoops with his hands, forcing the loose sand away until he found her nose.

She exploded, sucking in labored lungfuls of air. It was precarious still and she squealed again as the sand fell back in and pressed against her face. She tried to draw breath and received nothing. Her loins were still pulsing from the vibrator that would not stop, the weight of the sand almost too much for her. Her body involuntarily tried to struggle but she was so encased…. It didn’t take long for her lungs to throb and her eyes to see stars from lack of air. And the stimulation on her clitoris was somehow making it all incredible, unbelievably feeling another climax building.

She felt his fingers against her cheeks and she risked a breath – barely as one of her nostrils seemed to be blocked but anything was good. She felt him pinch her nose and she was breathing again, deep, long inhales to counter the weight of the sand pressing all around her.

“Still with us, then?” he asked, somehow playfully.

She gave a staccato grunt between breaths.

“Ah. I see your mouth is still covered.”

A staccato squeak now.

“I’d help but your situation is…delicate. Shall I tell you more?”

He listened but for a few moments only heard the sound of her pulling in air. Taking a touch of pity on her as she did seem to be struggling, he gingerly reached into the space in front of her nose and attempted to pack down the sand around her mouth. He tapped her nose with a finger. “Should be safe to part your lovely lips again. No yawning however.”

And her lips did part, slightly and she was practically gasping. He let her have time to collect herself before asking, “Everything all right? You’re very quiet.”

Finally, she spoke between her now quickened breath.

“Two…” she began, licking her lips then seeming to regret it as they were still coated in sand. “Two things.”

He watched her gather her air for the next words.

“Heavy…” she managed to say. “Hard…to catch my…breath.”

“I imagine. I was going to explain. Your little hole is filled and then some. I’m still wondering how you managed it, but I’ll confess I did assist in no small way. After you somehow knocked over the largest pile of sand on top of your pretty little head, your pretty little nose and lips I had to dig down to find. I’d caution you not to move too much for fear of caving it all in again.”

“Can’t…move,” she said. “See?” And though it wasn’t clear what motion she actually made, he really didn’t have a view of anything but the blindfold and nose, her mouth hidden at the angle available to him, something caused the sand to shift and it flowed down and settled about half way up the blindfold.

“I did explain,” he said, a bit loudly for her benefit. And a single muffled note returned to him through the sand. He sighed, and did his best to remove it quickly. Again, once her nose was freed, she sucked in a lungful of air and let it out in a muffled scream, her mouth not available once again.

He dug a little deeper and was rewarded with more gasping for air. This was erratic, her cheeks reddening as she held her breath, then forcefully expelling it before drawing in again. Then almost panting before yet another pause.

“Two…” she said again.

“Ah, yes. You did say there were two things. Continue.”

“Vi….nnnnggghhh….” was all she managed before cutting herself off in what he finally determined was a fit of ecstasy. Her mouth parted wider for a moment, then she bit her lip, trying to gain some self control. “I can’t…move…the vibrator.”

He grinned, apparently loudly.

“Don’t…laugh…oh, ffff….” and her staccato squeak chirped out.

“You could turn it off, perhaps?”

“Can’t reach,” she spat out as if it were a single syllable. She bit her lip again and her face did indeed turn red. “Oh my fu….” she started before her breath became quick again. He listened to her as her breath became faster and harder until her voice, high and brief, accompanied every burst of air. It was almost a chant in an unknown language that became louder and louder. Finally, her words became intelligible between gasps, “I can’t…I can’t…oh my f…I can’t…I CAN’T!”

And somehow, her body captured and bound in a mountain of sand, she threw her head back if only a fraction of an inch and screamed as loud as he’d ever heard anyone. And again, as the sand predictably collapsed down upon her once again, this time without a trace of her visible, she managed another scream which was not as muffled as one would think with a foot of sand covering her mouth. And then, of course, silence.

Out of curiosity, he watched to see if there was indeed any movement he could ascertain while she was in the middle of what did seem a horrendous orgasm. Nothing. It was just a sandy beach. Even so, he wasted no more time pulling armfuls of sand from where she lay hidden, exposing the top of her auburn head first, unmoving. Using both hands he pulled sand away from the blindfold, quickly freeing her nose. He pinched it to free it of any loose sand and a panicked inhale of air followed, and another, and several more after that. Then he pulled two handfuls from around her mouth where a glob of spit-covered sand unceremoniously emitted from betwixt her lips.

He let her have her time and he busied himself with chores. Eventually, when she was breathing easier…

“Hello,” he said, having made an effort to give her head more reign of movement. She tried to scrape sand from her tongue with her teeth, spat a bit.

“Hi,” she returned, still working to clean up.

“Water?” he offered.

“Yes, please.” And he managed to squirt some in or near her mouth which she drank and spat in equal measure. “Ugh. Better. Thank you.”

“That was something.”

“It really was. Gods. I’m selling your present.”

He chuckled. “I did move some sand off you. Easier to breathe?”

“Yes. And I finally found the off button so I’m taking a moment to collect myself.”

“You should. Take a moment, I mean.”

“I hope you’re not thinking of extracting me from our little bondage game?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Not when you’re having such a good time.”

“So I am. So I am,” she murmured in reminiscence. She flexed her neck now that she had the room. “I’ll say it’s still heavy.”

“I believe you. Can you free yourself if needed?”

“Thigh cuffs,” she said.

“Right, almost forgot. Unlucky you.”

“Would we say unlucky? I wouldn’t say unlucky.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t. I’m glad it was an experience.”

“That’s one word for it,” she said, and she paused as she recollected. “You were friendly enough to declare my situation earlier. I’m still blindfolded. How do things lie, sir?”

“This is a sound question. Let me tell you. Not to alarm, but I’m still looking down at you in a hole, but rather than it being as narrow as your cheeks, you have some room to shake your head about.”

“I do appreciate this.”

“And in front of you I’ve made a sizable trench to ease the weight on your chest.”

“Also thoughtful. For the moment.”

“I was curious how you might take it all. Sand is heavy.”

“Well, I’m very happy to have sated your curiosity.”

The pair chatted for a while longer, she enjoying the post-ecstasy calm, and the pressure of her entombment added to this enjoyment. Eventually, given who they were and where they were and what they had imagined for the day, they returned to the topic at hand.

“Can I impress you with some foreplay?” he asked, and she heard him moving around her.

“How can I say no, really? What do you have in mind? Tickling my feet?”

“Funny,” and she heard some mild exertion in his voice. “Things may feel a little weighty again soon.”

“Indeed,” she breathed, already noticing. And it wasn’t long before she was back to taking long breaths, as if to push away the sand with her chest. She felt the closeness of it around her again, as if the sun had been blocked from view. “Not burying me completely, are you?” she said, gasping yet again.

“No, no. You seem to manage that yourself and you do it with impeccable timing.”

“I assure you…” she began, catching her breath. “Unintentional.”

“No doubt. Here comes our foreplay.”

She immediately felt a stream of warm, dry sand on the back of her neck. It was actually quite pleasant as it trickled around her and she said as much.

“I thought you might like it. Sun warmed just for you.”

“Always so accommodating, the sun. Mmm…that is nice.” The stream wasn’t steady but the warmth filled the space under her chin. Soon, she was covered to her ear lobes and even that felt pleasant. She felt the dissipating flow of it atop the back of her head, and as it swept around it finally did cover her ears, encircling her cheeks and caressing her bottom lip.

“And…” she said, blowing a bit of air to force the dry grains away, “My situation now, sir? Prithee…” and she had to wait a couple breaths to talk, “Do tell me.”

“As you might imagine,” and he paused long enough for her to hesitantly ask, “Yes?”

“You are again in a bit of a bowl…mmm…perhaps a vase really as the space around you isn’t very wide. I have to look over the rim to actually see your pink lips.”

“And what,” she breathed, “are your intentions, good sir?”

“As stated, just a bit of foreplay.”

And that river of dry sand started flowing around the sides of her face meeting at her lips. “I don’t…” she began, but had to blow out to keep the sand away again. “I don’t suppose, you could give me a minute to…” and again she forced the sand away. “…a minute to…” and then it was too late and she barely managed to mumble the word “brat”, which came out more as “brph” before she no longer felt it practical to keep her lips apart.

Breathing just through her nose was a labor, she heard her breath go in, sniff, and out, snuff. When he asked her a question, it was all she could do to take several breaths and then make some non-committal sound. Everything came out as, “mm” with only two m’s followed by another breath as even that effort was too much.

She heard him ask about her toy. “Mm”, she replied, though she wasn’t sure her body was ready for it again. But when she managed to put pressure on the button and the vibrations struck directly on her clitoris, the guttural sound that escaped her throat surprised even her.

“I gather you’ve found the on button,” he quipped. She growled in her throat, an affirmative and gods this shouldn’t feel this good, she thought. And when he said, “I’ll continue with our foreplay then,” her eyes flicked open beneath the blindfold and she gave a questioning grunt between her inhales.

“Sit back, relax. I believe you’ll enjoy this.” Again, the sensation of the dry sand covering her head, shifting and flowing downwards, covering her lips deeper. She felt the blindfold press against her skin as the sand piled against it.

But when the granules of sand bumped against the side of her nose, she reflexively tried to raise her chin and managed it somehow. Just enough so that she was able to say “You…” before things settled again and her mouth was covered once more. She gave a grunt of frustration which turned quickly into a squeal as she felt the sand come around and settle against her nostrils. She forcefully exhaled and she felt the grains blow outwards, then settle back, half covering her nose.

Each breath was a staccato effort to keep the sand from suffocating her. Slow steady inhale so as not to draw the sand in, a short quick exhale to push it away. The repetition of it set her mind back on her body and she shifted the vibrator just a smidge and it was a shock of lightning to her system. Her throat gave a short scream and when she somehow felt more sand pile against her nose she screamed in earnest. She tried to move again but there was no give this time – her head was buried to the top less her eyes and nose.

Between the weight of the sand, her nose being half blocked, and the vibrator’s handiwork, she wasn’t getting enough air. Her breathing was panicked quick, near hyperventilation, her loins starting to pulse while she fought to keep herself above the sand.

The buildup was coming, her near asphyxiation heightening the coming orgasm. She grunted once, trying to tell him something but she was no longer certain of what. And as she squinted her eyes shut against the trembling of her body, somehow he was pouring more sand over her. She felt it rain down and she did what she could to voice something, her short shallow breaths punctuated with some vowel, a sound that rose higher each time she panted out in her fear, her expectation.

And then it was upon her, an initial wave that rode up from between her legs rolling upwards over and through her body, somehow striking her fully as her next quick inhale only took in sand and there wasn’t enough air in her body to force it out. Her body trembled and if she’d been in bed she would be thrashing but, entombed as she was, her muscles just pushed unsuccessfully against the sand entrapping her. She wanted to scream but there was nothing left to scream with.

Somewhere amidst her mind exploding quaking, amidst the overwhelming need to just move, she knew she was literally underground, that he’d buried her in that warm dry sand not to her nose but deeply, enough she could feel the warm weight of it on her scalp. And still her body throbbed, not nearly done and in that miracle of “horrendous orgasm” when your body not only doesn’t need air, it doesn’t desire it, her mouth opened in a silent scream and she instinctually forced the vibrator even harder against her clitoris.

And her body and mind exploded as they never had before, shivering violently under the sand, her limbs no longer under her control, jellied extensions on her shoulders and hips. For long moments this went on, her frozen, silently screaming orgasm until tears dampened her blindfold and the sand packing her mouth was wet with drool. Her body slowly came down, nerves twitching, muscles jumping. Even had she not been deeply buried at the beach with no air in her lungs left, she would have lost consciousness. And so she did.

“Welcome back?” she heard, seemingly from a distance. It took her a moment to realize he was speaking. It took another moment to realize her eyes were still closed and another that her blindfold was gone. And, rather unexpectedly, she felt sand all around her face, even against her mouth.

She pried her eyes open, expecting glaring sunlight. But it was dusk somehow and more than that, aside from a purplish sky above her, she was surrounded by piles of sand. All the views she’d been missing from when she was blindfolded.

So why was she still buried? And why so deep still? She was at the bottom of a hole and the mounds of sand seemed threateningly tall. If they shifted, they’d certainly cover her.

“Let me try again,” she heard him say, and saw him this time, his face peering down at her. “How are you feeling?”

She moved her eyes, as that was all she could move, making it obvious she was scanning her surroundings and finding them all a bit curious, if not dubious. She cocked an eyebrow in question.

“Ah, finally back. May I free you to speak?”

She somehow managed to give him a look that said, This seems an obvious course of action.

And he did so, carefully giving her just enough room to move her lips. But not much more than that.

“Hello,” she said, a slight smile on her face. “I will say,” and she took a breath because now that she was awake, she was reminded of how heavy sand was, “that I didn’t expect to wake and find myself buried in the sand.”


“Deep enough I’m having a hard time breathing.”

“About that.”

“In the evening.”

He frowned. “Quite. I should explain.”

“Wait,” she said, and her face took on a look of surprised remembrance, sandy lips and all. “Oh dear. I did that thing again.”

“Oh dear, you did indeed. Do you recall? It was fascinating.”

“Like the last time?”

“Very much so, though you weren’t wrapped in plastic this time. Just buried in the sand.”

She looked around again. “Would you call this ‘just’?”

“I suppose not.” He paused. “When I uncovered you…”

“I don’t remember that part.”

“You were asleep.”

“Don’t you mean unconscious? Because I’m now remembering the part before that. Foreplay, I believe you called it. You buried me over my head.”

“No such thing. You managed that all by yourself.”

“I don’t think that would hold up in a court of law. I couldn’t move, never mind bury myself.”

He cocked an eyebrow of his own. “I need to make a video of you in your throes sometime and show it to you. Even buried to the tip of your nose…”

“That was you.”

“That was me. Even with your wrists bound firmly to your thighs.”

“Also you.”

“I’d like to state for the jury it was a joint effort.”

She thought for a moment. “Accepted.”

“Even with those things, you still caused chaos. Three times, if you recall.”

“I really only recall the first two. Burying myself. Accidentally I might add.” And the sideways look she gave him said that might not be entirely the truth. “I only remember being underground the third time.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “ What happened then?”

“You happened. A play by play, if you will indulge me.” She nodded assent. “In my cleverness, I sensed your oncoming…coming…”


“…and I made to give you one last sensation, one more trickle of sand to give you that feeling of…concern…”



“A good compromise.”

“…and I think I underestimated…”

“What a ‘trickle’ was?”

“You. Something you did under all that sand affected all the other sand that was around you.”

She pondered, and quickly realized the truth. “Ah. Yes, it was something. It was…everything.”

“Just so. I won’t say you caused a small earthquake but you must have been trembling hard enough to…”

“I’m sure I was,” she interjected. “As I said, it was something.”

He smiled, genuinely. “You are amazing, dear. Long story short, with you at the bottom of your vase, I believe I called it, with foot high piles of sand all resting a foot over your head…”

“With my head already covered with your foreplay right to the tip of my nose, as you say…”

“Well, everything collapsed on top of you. It took me a full minute before I realized I was off in my digging by 6 inches.”

“Nothing left of me then.”

“Not a trace. If I said I was a little frantic, that may be an understatement. You were…underground as you said…for a while. I ended up digging a tunnel sideways to your nose just to clear it. I felt you breathing with my fingers so I cleared your mouth…which was…”

“Full of sand. I recall that. Apologies, couldn’t be helped.”

“Mmm. You’re something, all right. I managed to sort that, with your help.”

“I was awake?”

“Very. Well, you were…coherent…I should say. Answered my questions easily enough. You seemed fine though I suspected you were in a state. You wanted to stay buried, even with a foot of sand on your head.”

“This is what happened when I was wrapped, you said. After I’d lost consciousness, when I woke up, I didn’t want you to let me out. I even wanted you to leave me with just a straw to breathe through.”

“Very similar. I was able to compromise with you this time. I removed the sand from your head – a tenuous process – but you insisted on repeating the foreplay, putting you right back in your current position. Once your mouth was covered, your breathing somehow slowed, despite the sand, and you fell back asleep. A few hours later, and here we are.”

“Ah, sorry to have startled you.”

“Not your fault. Clearly it was an adventure.”

“Yes, it was.” Her eyes lost focus for a bit. When she was back, she bit her lip and looked at him shyly. “It’s not that late…”

“One moment.” And he disappeared from her side, somewhere behind the piles of encroaching sand. It wasn’t long before she felt pressure on her body again.

“I thought something was different,” she said, her chest heaving a bit now. She heard him from somewhere in front of her, still out of view.

“I removed quite a bit of the sand from you when you were sleeping.”

“Feels…mmph…like you’re,” she forced a breath into her lungs, “returning it…from whe…”. It was more difficult to breathe than earlier, she was certain. She tried to complete her sentence but it was a challenge. “From whence…”, breathe in, breathe out, “it…came. Oof.”

“I am. And perhaps a bit more. Upping the ante, as it were.” She heard his efforts though he went unseen behind the pile of sand in front of her. “How are you doing?” he asked after a bit. “Keeping up?” He had returned and there was indeed a knowing grin on his face.

“Fi…”, she started, but then had to wait for enough air. It felt like he’d moved half the beach onto her. “Fine.”

“You sound…. What’s the word?”

She replied, a hoarse whisper. “Crushed?” And gave a weak smile.

“Such a trooper. Shall we continue?”

She was silent, building up her words. Short, shallow breaths, the sand feeling like it was pressing down harder and harder against her chest with every exhale. Finally, she managed, “Oh.”

“Oh?” he asked. “Like the vowel or…?”

“Okay,” the word coming out in a single breath. “Go,” she said, because, “Please carry on with your nefarious plans” would have been hours.

And it was only a moment before she felt it on the back of her neck. She squeaked at the sensation. The sand, as before, was warm, dry, she could feel it caress her skin, sliding from behind her to come to rest under her chin.

“I think you’ll like this. There’s a bit less buildup.” The flow of sand became even with her jawline and she tried to raise her head without success. Too much sand already behind her. Somehow the stream of sand continued unabated, the grains slowly rising up her face..

“Bucket?” she asked, trying to solve the mystery. It was already covering her cheeks and she felt it near her lower lip.

“Clever girl.”

She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, again coming in short, quick gasps. When it reached a depth where it threatened to fall into her mouth, she pursed her lips to keep them above. “Wait,” she tried to say, but it came out more like, “Weh” as she timed it with her brief exhale. The sand crept over her bottom lip anyway and she used more than a few of her gasping efforts to blow the grains away. Finally, exhaustingly, the sand seemed to have stopped in its course.

“Sorry,” he said. “You caught me mid-bucket. You were saying?”

He waited for her to get enough air. At this point, he could tell it was all she could do to keep the sand from slipping into her mouth. He watched as she made an effort to blow the sand from her lip. Once, twice. She rolled her eyes in surrender. Choosing her word (as words weren’t an option at this point), she went with a P word so she could keep her lips mostly pursed.

“Plah?” Which was meant to be “plan” but her shallow breaths didn’t allow her time to finish the word. She imagined she sounded like a fish out of water, gasping on the seashore.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. She panted, looking up at him. Then both his eyebrows raised in unison. “Ah. Plan. I was going to keep it as a surprise…”

She rolled her eyes at him and continued to struggle to breathe.

“But since you insist. I’m going to bury you…”, he paused.

She gathered herself to speak but could only manage, “Wha?” because the t’s just weren’t making it out in time. He did seem to gather the entire message: “I don’t follow you because I do seem to be very well buried. Perhaps too well buried. Can you explain more clearly?” 

And he pointed to the bridge of her nose, touching her just about where her eyes were. “…to here.”

And those eyes, rather than widening in shock, merely narrowed in suspicion. She started to say something three times, never quite able to catch her breath long enough. “Th…” Pause to gasp several times in a row. “Tih…” Then finally, “Tih…” again before she gave it her best effort, drawing in as much air as she could, and forcing out a “Canbree” before going back to her pursed lip panting. She closed her eyes briefly from the effort, then looked up at him, awaiting, with enforced patience, for his response.

“Can’t. Breathe. Is that what you said?” And he was being playful with her, even now.


“Well,” and he disappeared from her view. “Let’s take it slow then, shall we?”

And amazingly she felt that warm sand on the back of her head, sliding now, over her ears to fall towards her pursed lips.

“Weh,” she tried to say. “Eh…” The grains were a trickle but steady and she inhaled through her nose and breathed out through her mouth, fighting their encroachment. All while trying to tell him this was all a bit much for her at the moment. Any sounds she tried to make were only “Phhh” as she tried in vain to keep the sand from her mouth. Finally, all she could do was give one push with her tongue, forcing some sand out, before tightening her lips for good.

Trying to get enough air through just her nose was going to have an inevitable outcome. Her ears now plugged, her intake and outtake of air was all she could hear. She could feel, however. And the dry grains of sand continued to pass by her peripheral vision, caressing her cheeks. “Mm,” she tried, vowels no longer an option. The sand kept flowing until she felt it on the sides of her nostrils, and could see the grains dance from her staccato breaths.

“Mmm,” she exclaimed, with a full three m’s, making a noise loud enough to start her hyperventilating, almost, directly after with her efforts.

Her eyes went up as his face appeared above her. “You called, dearest?”

She rolled her eyes at him again. She looked down at the sand, back up at him. Let out a slightly more forceful exhale, spraying the sand a bit, to demonstrate how close her nose was from being buried.

“All according to plan, darling. Are you having fun?”

She glared at him, since there wasn’t really any other means of communicating.

“Well, let’s call this Plan A.”

She waited, all she could do was wait. But a plan B sounded better than being buried to her eyes.

“Before you get too excited, there isn’t a Plan B.” She restarted her glaring. “There is, however, a Plan A part 2, though really it’s more of a contemporary to part 1.”

She cocked an eyebrow in question.

“Do you remember your present?”

And she gave him a look that somehow said, very clearly, “I hardly think this is the time for me to attempt an orgasm as I can barely breathe as it is.”

“That was quite the look of disbelief. Nevertheless, now that I’ve brought it to mind, perhaps you should try.” He paused and gave a playful smirk. “You’ll be buried either way, adding to your entertainment could do nothing but improve your situation. You let me know. I’ll wait here.”

And despite her glowering, he did indeed wait there, watching her and her struggle against the heavy sand. In the end, she pushed the button on the vibrator. Already placed against her groin, she hadn’t expected much of a response. Difficult to be eroticized when every breath is an effort.

So it was much to her chagrin that the vibrations did have an immediate effect, causing her to give an involuntary grunt with a widening of her eyes. She was almost embarrassed by her body’s response. He was still looking down at her but he didn’t say anything for long moments. Moments where she could take in the sensations going on under the sand. She closed her eyes and her breath quickened even more, if that was possible. She felt her cheeks flush, and a squeak came from somewhere as a pulse of ecstasy hit her.

“It seems like the plan, part le deux, is going well?”

She wasn’t able to adequately express her feelings, she couldn’t tilt her head or mumble anything meaningful. She simply looked at him and said, “Mmhm,” impressing herself that she managed two syllables.

“Let’s continue then with part l’un.” He slipped behind her somewhere and her heartbeat somehow became noticeable to her, starting to pound in trepidation of what was coming. Her chest, already compressed by a hundred pounds of sand, constricted even more with what might have been fear but somehow was…anticipation.

Her loins responded in kind and she felt dampness between her legs. She closed her eyes, taking in the pulsing that was beginning in her belly, her thudding heart. Her shallow breaths stuttered as she pushed the vibrator a little more firmly against her clitoris. Her stomach tensed and she squeaked again, and again once more before she had to focus on acquiring air.

When the warm sand was poured over her head, she was unprepared. More than a trickle, it was a river and her eyes flew open in panic. “Mmmm!” came forth, her efforts renewed by her fear. This really couldn’t be happening. “MMM…” and the sound she was forcing from her nostrils became muted as the sand flowed from either side of her face, meeting in the middle and quickly covering her nose and cheeks. She watched as the grains settled close enough to her eyes to stick to her lashes, a plain of sand before her vision.

Never having had enough air to begin with, and using the last of what she had with her final vocals, she tried to breathe. Her nose plugged instantly, no air at all. She tried to raise her head but it wouldn’t move. She only made things worse as more sand slid off the top of her head, forcing her to close her eyes as she buried herself to her eyebrows.

And it was then her body betrayed her, the orgasm struck while she was helpless, breathless, frozen in the sand. Her entire body bucked, or would have if she wasn’t encased as she was, her muscles thrashing in place. She saw stars behind her eyes from lack of oxygen but her body wasn’t trying for any, as it was clenched too tight against the cataclysmic ecstasy that coursed through her.

The sand was pulled from her face, enough to free her nose. She felt him pinch it free of sand and she still couldn’t get enough air under the weight of the sand. But she had to tell him. Let him know it was…it was…so much…

“Mm! Mm! Mm! Mm!” and it didn’t seem like it would end and suddenly she was buried again and her last “Mm!” left her again empty of air. She needed to breathe then, or thought she did, her mouth opening wide and getting nothing but sand, pinning her jaw open. No air anywhere and her body contracted again.

She felt a tremendous weight of sand cover her head, she had collapsed the piles of sand once again, and the sensation, no longer unique but thrillingly familiar, put her body through its paces once again. Muscles bucking, fingers clenching, toes curling, the rest of her frozen in place as every nerve ending fired, light flared behind her eyes. She didn’t know how long it lasted but eventually, in lung bursting ecstasy, she succumbed to the pleasure.

She woke, oddly, to the smell of campfire. On her back, she felt a blanket between her and the sand and though she was obviously free of her entombment, her body was in a state of complete exhaustion. It was all she could manage to simply open her eyes.

His hand touched hers and she found the strength to take hold of it.

“It’s late,” she said.

“Not too,” he replied. “Time enough for me to sort things. Supper will be ready shortly.”

She felt sand in every crevice though her face seemed blessedly clear of it. She touched her belly and traced a finger in the fine grains upon it.

“Apologies,” he said. “Sand rather clings and neither of us were up to a swim. I did what I could.”

“You dug me out,” she said simply, still in a state of euphoria.

“I did, though I won’t say it wasn’t a challenge. You were no help at all.”

She smiled at that.

“Like moving a bowl of Jell-O.”

“Hey,” she said softly. “I’m not Jell-O.”

“No, I suppose not. Are you feeling well?”

“I feel like I’ve been forced to orgasm while buried in the sand. Again. And again.” She paused, putting a finger to her lip as if pondering. “And again.”

“I’m not certain ‘forced’ is a fair term.”

“And again,” she finished, a far away smile spreading across her lips. “Not forced, I think. Though there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.” Her other hand, of its own accord, slid to the space between her legs.

“You need just have asked,” he told her in a low voice.

She gasped as she touched herself, closing her eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Precisely my thinking.”

“Any…mmm…plans for tomorrow?” she sighed, now clearly in a state.

“I hadn’t thought,” he said, moving to assist.

Before they kissed for the first time that night, she moaned, “I’d like to do it all again.”


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