Golden Hour Tease

Golden Hour Tease

The sun was beginning its slow descent, dripping honey-gold light across the beach. The sky stretched cloudless above, the sea lapping lazily at the shore. It had been a perfect day. Clear, hot, just salty enough to leave Camille and Lara's skin glazed in sun, sweat, and ocean.

Lara, tanned and shimmering, was toweling off near the edge of their rented lounger. Her red bikini clung to her like it had melted on: the triangle top barely cupping her breasts, the strings knotted in a messy bow behind her neck. Her bottoms, Brazilian cut and unapologetically tiny, were a sliver of red cutting across her curves. Salt crystals dusted her hips like sugar.

Camille, in her dusky pink bikini, was still damp, drops glinting along her chest as she waved a towel half-heartedly. The mood was mellow.. end-of-day haze. Both girls had the warm, lazy energy of having done nothing except swim, sunbathe, and sip.

Camille picked up Lara's phone. "Should we try some golden hour shots before we go up?"

Lara smiled. "Mm, we have just enough light."

They started snapping pictures. One taking, one posing. Camille arched her back with her arms above her head; Lara did a playful wink with her tongue curled to one side. Sand stuck to their calves and elbows. Hair was tousled. Everything was perfect.

Except the phone kept falling over in the san.

"It hates us," Lara said, laughing as it toppled again.

"Jealous of how good we look," Camille replied. They burst into giggles.

Not far off, three guys had paused their paddleboard packing. All tanned, shirtless, lean. Board shorts hanging low on sharp hips. One held a paddle mid-air, frozen, watching. The other two leaned closer.

Lara and Camille noticed. Of course they did. Lara dipped her head, letting her wet curls fall over one shoulder. Camille shot her a look--mischievous, conspiratorial.

The phone fell again.

That did it.

"Need a hand?" the tallest of the guys called over, grinning.

Camille didn't miss a beat. "Only if you're good with angles."

They approached with confident strides. Introductions were soft and forgettable--Jake, Theo, and Enzo, maybe. All Lara caught were smiles and shoulders. Enzo took the phone. Camille gestured at the sand.

"Okay. Two of us. Standing. Make us look tall, but don't crop the hips."

They posed together, arms around each other's waists, leaning in, cheeks almost touching. Camille whispered something that made Lara laugh and stick her chest out more.

"Cute," one of the guys said, looking at the screen. "You want in too?"

Camille raised a brow. "We always want more."

Two of them joined the frame--Camille still at center. The photos were sweet at first. Everyone smiling. Shoulders brushing. Lara tilted her head and pouted, lips parted just a little. When one guy moved closer, she adjusted her posture and arched her back slightly.

"Let me shoot one of Lara with all three of you," Camille said, eyes gleaming. "For, you know, balance."

She took the phone. "Go on, surround her. Triple the fun," she said with a naughty look in her eye.

Lara stood in the middle, one guy on each side, one behind. Their skin radiated heat. She laughed as they scooted in tighter.

Camille circled them like a fashion photographer. "Closer. Don't be shy. Arm around her waist, please. No, both hands. Perfect."

Then: "Lift her."

They moved without hesitation. One guy hoisted under her knees, the other behind her back. Lara squealed, laughing, arms over their shoulders. The third adjusted, sliding behind to help steady her. She floated just above the sand.

Her bikini shifted--just slightly. The lower triangle tugged, exposing the bottom curve of one breast. One strap slipped.

Camille caught it in the frame.

"That," she said softly, to herself, "is money."

Lara giggled, but her breath was catching. Her thighs rested against strong forearms. Her stomach was tight from holding herself. Her legs were only gently apart--for now.

Camille snapped a few more shots, then lowered the phone.

"You want more?"

Lara nodded, flushed, and bit her bottom lip.

Camille smiled. She knew what more meant.

--

Lara was suspended between the three men, her body resting on their arms like she was weightless. The golden light painted her skin in soft bronze, glinting in the salt still clinging to her curves. Her red bikini was no longer cooperating--one breast had half slipped free, and her bottoms were moving lower on her hips with every shift of their grip.

Camille stood back, phone in hand, head tilted, lips parted slightly as she adjusted her stance for the next shot.

"Oh yes," Camille murmured. "Hold her just like that. Don't let her drop. She's our prize."

Lara giggled breathlessly, arms still looped around the necks of the men at her sides. The third behind her adjusted his grip, one palm sliding beneath her backside for balance. But his fingers lingered--cupping, then lightly stroking the curve of her cheeks. Lara's eyes fluttered.

"Camille," she whispered, half-laughing, half-breathless. "They're getting handsy."

"I know," Camille purred, tapping the screen. "And you love it."

She moved in a little closer, angling the phone just right. "Now... boys, just spread her legs a bit more. That's it--just enough for the light to get in."

The men glanced at each other. The one behind slid his hand up to Lara's thigh, guiding one leg out a few more inches, then more. The other followed. Lara's legs were stretched wide apart now, her bikini bottom stretched taut and skewed just enough to show more than it should. A hint of dark, wet red where fabric met skin.

"Beautiful," Camille said, voice a low hum. "Lara, can you roll your tongue for me?"

Lara smiled and obeyed--lips parted, tongue curling outward, slow and playful all the way around her lips. She tilted her head slightly and winked at the camera.

"Mmm," Camille smirked. "You're giving them ideas. Let's give them more."

She crouched slightly, capturing the shot from below. Lara's body framed against the sky, legs hanging open, hair wild, mouth filthy. The image was electric.

Then Camille stood. "Okay. Now I want you to kiss them."

Lara blinked and giggled. "All of them?"

"All three," Camille replied sweetly. "Start with the left. Let's see what you've got."

The man to her left leaned in and Lara met him, lips parting as their mouths brushed. It started soft but deepened quickly--her hand resting on his chest, fingers sliding over the salt-damp skin. She moaned softly against his mouth, and he held her tighter, one hand creeping just beneath the edge of her top.

Camille snapped another photo.

"Next," she said.

Lara turned to the man on her right. This time, she opened wider, more confident, her tongue darting between his lips as her fingers trailed over his abs. Their kiss was slower, wetter, deeper. Camille bit her lip as she watched.

"Good girl," she whispered. "One more."

Lara twisted slightly to kiss the man behind her. He had to lean forward, tilting her toward him, her arms slipping loosely from the other men's shoulders. As she leaned back, the hands holding her didn't stay idle--one was stroking along her inner thigh, another brushing up over her stomach, fingertips grazing the underside of her free breast. Their kiss was brief but dirty--Lara pulling back with a little laugh, licking her lips.

She looked to Camille. "Happy?"

"Oh baby," Camille murmured. "I haven't even started."

Camille stepped forward. "Boys--open her a little more."

Hands moved again. Lara's legs parted further, now indecently wide. One hand rubbed her inner thigh, another slid behind her back to keep her balanced. The man in the rear was no longer pretending--it was both hands on her ass now, one gently spreading her cheek, the other sliding along the inside seam of her bikini bottom.

Lara gasped and arched. The bikini did nothing to stop him.

Camille lowered the camera slightly, eyes locked on Lara's expression. "You're soaked."

Lara licked her lips. "Am I?"

"You know you are. Look at you."

Two hands found her breasts now--cupping, squeezing, thumbs brushing her nipples through the slackened fabric. One triangle slipped down completely, revealing a dark nipple, hard and slick with salt and sweat.

"Oh yes," Camille said, snapping another. "God, Lara... show me your mouth again."

Lara opened wide, tongue out, panting lightly. She was being explored, fondled, held open--and it showed.

The man behind her had one finger curled beneath her bikini at the back now, gently teasing along her crack. He spread her cheeks softly, slowly, letting the light hit her bare skin.

Lara groaned, her body squirming slightly. "Camille..."

Camille smirked. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No..."

"I didn't think so."

Another photo. Another moan.

"You're being held wide open and rubbed like a treasure chest," Camille whispered, more to herself now. "And you're just letting them. You're so good at this, Lara."

Lara was flushed, mouth wet, breasts bare, rear gently spread and rubbed, hands still moving, still teasing.

"Now say something," Camille breathed. "Tell them what you want."

Lara locked eyes with the guy in front of her. "Kiss me harder."

She turned to Camille, voice low and trembling. "And someone... put their tongue inside me."

Camille's smile was slow, proud, hungry.

"Not yet," she purred. "We're not done with the photos."

--

The kissing didn't stop.

Lara, suspended between the two young men, was swaying now--mouth to mouth, breath to breath. Their hands knew where to go. The guy on her left kissed her deeply, his tongue coaxing hers out in lazy strokes while the one on the right ran his hand across her chest, sliding under her loosened bikini top, thumbing her nipple. The salt on her skin only made them hungrier. She was glowing, skin slick with sea and oil, and utterly relaxed into their rhythm.

Camille kept her camera angled low, biting her lip as she focused. "Oh yes. Don't stop, boys," she purred. "Kiss her like you mean it."

Behind Lara, the third guy slid one hand along the curve of her rear, cupping and spreading it gently with both hands. She gasped into the kiss, her thighs twitching open just a little more in the men's grip.

"Mmm, someone's adventurous," Camille grinned. "Let's give her a little... stretch."

Lara didn't answer. She didn't need to.

His fingers dipped in slowly--two at once--parting her from behind. The salty breeze suddenly felt cooler across her damp skin, a flick of contrast that made her hips buck softly in response. Her knees sagged slightly, and the guys holding her supported more of her weight. Her legs now hung wider apart, dangling but controlled, and her back arched into the sensation as the guy behind her started a gentle rhythm.

One of the strings holding her bikini bottoms came undone. The knot slipped. Camille zoomed in immediately.

"Oh no," she said in a voice that feigned innocence. "Looks like someone's going full frontal."

The loose triangle slid to the side, half-folded, barely covering anything. One lip was fully visible. Lara giggled, then moaned--clearly aware, clearly enjoying the slow unravelling.

Camille lowered the camera for a moment and stepped in, brushing a curl of hair behind Lara's ear. "You look insane right now. They are going to love this. Mind if I get a little closer?"

Lara's answer came as a low, greedy hum. Camille knelt in the sand in front of her and signaled to the guys. "Hold her wider."

The men obeyed, stretching her thighs just a little further. Camille reached up with one hand and gently placed her fingers on either side of Lara's glistening pussy, holding her lips open with theatrical precision.

The light was perfect--peach and gold, touching every bare inch.

"She's shaved smooth, of course," Camille said to no one and everyone, letting her voice go low and dirty, just for Lara. "Open like a book. Just how she likes to be read."

She leaned in, close enough that her breath teased the skin she held open. Lara trembled, her head falling back between the shoulders of her carriers.

The guy behind her was still sliding his fingers deep inside her ass, slow and curling. Now her front was open too--held, viewed, displayed. Camille turned the camera to capture the full angle. Fingers in front. Fingers behind. Lara's mouth parted in a moan so round and full it should've been on a postcard.

From the distance, a pair of hotel guests were clearly watching--sunglasses low, cocktails paused mid-sip.

Camille didn't miss a beat. "Lara, baby... you've got admirers."

Lara didn't flinch. In fact, her moans turned into small, rhythmic gasps as she tilted her hips against every touch. "Let them look," she whispered. "Let them see everything."

Camille smiled wickedly and turned to the guy on Lara's right. "Little higher. Touch her chest again. Mmm, yes. And you--" she nodded to the one at the back, "--keep that up. She loves it in her ass. Gentle, but deep."

"God..." Lara gasped, laughing between moans, "you're such a fucking tease, Camille..."

"Oh, sweetheart," Camille grinned, lowering her voice to a purr, "you're the one giving the show."

Camille's fingers never left their place, still lightly parting Lara's lips, showcasing every twitch, every shimmer. Lara's lips--pink, soft, swollen, slick--quivered as Camille widened the spread just enough for the camera to catch a glint of the action. The man behind hadn't stopped either--his fingers inside her rear moved in slow, deliberate strokes, curling and scissoring just enough to stretch, tease, and claim. And now, a second set of fingers--bolder--was circling her clit, slick from salt and lust. They didn't press, not yet. Just ghosted over the nub, back and forth, circling like they knew how maddening anticipation could be.

Camille leaned in, her voice right beside Lara's ear now, breath hot. "She's close," she told the guys. "Our greedy girl's about to show us how she says thank you."

Lara moaned louder, helplessly rocking her hips. Her legs had long since stopped holding themselves open--they were limp, slack, held wide only by the strong arms supporting her thighs. She was suspended, thighs trembling, skin glowing, salt and sweat glistening like oil. Camille dipped a finger lower, dragging it slowly along Lara's slickened inner lips and then back up. She held her hand to the light--wet and shining--and showed it to Lara's audience.

"Ask them," Camille whispered, licking her lips. "Tell them what you want. Tell them what kind of greedy little cunt you are."

Lara's eyes fluttered open. Her mouth dropped open, breath catching, then--

"Please," she whispered hoarsely. "Fingers harder.. both of you. Please, I want to feel you inside me, Ass and pussy--deeper. I'm a greedy little cunt. Fuck me with your fingers. Make me cum."

Camille moaned just hearing her say it. "That's my girl."

The men didn't hesitate. The fingers at her rear pumped faster, sliding in with wet, rhythmic thrusts, each curl grazing deeper. The man at her front pressed his fingers inside now--just two, but thick and deliberate, curling upward to stroke her from within. Camille kept Lara spread wide for them, holding her open like a living trophy--her favorite pose, filthy and exquisite.

"Look at her," Camille murmured. "Held wide, stuffed in both holes, twitching for it. You like being watched, don't you, baby?"

Lara nodded violently, gasping. "I love it--I fucking love it--"

Her hips jerked, legs trembling harder now. Her body arched against their hands, against the sky, against gravity. The golden light caught every twitch of her thighs, the deep flush climbing her chest, the way her stomach muscles contracted then softened.

The fingers inside her ass thrust deeper, faster. The front ones began to match their pace--slippery and soaked, curling perfectly with each thrust. Camille whispered filth beside her ear, one hand still gently pulling Lara wider, the other now sliding between her own thighs.

"Cum for them," Camille breathed. "Let them see exactly what they did to you."

Lara's head rolled back. Her mouth dropped open.

Every nerve fired at once.

It hit her like a lightning strike--sharp, hot, blinding. Her whole body seized in a deep, rippling climax, thighs clamping around their arms, her pussy squeezing and fluttering around the fingers still inside. Her rear spasmed too, and the man behind groaned softly, feeling her pull on him, milking his fingers.

She moaned--long and helpless--one hand grabbing Camille's wrist, the other blindly reaching for anything to hold. Her toes curled. Her body shook. Her breath came in broken sobs, high and wild.

Camille didn't stop.

"Show them," she said again. "Show them how you love it."

Lara could barely speak. Her voice cracked around the words: "Fuck... yes... keep going..."

Her whole body pulsed, stretched wide and absolutely flooded with sensation. As the aftershocks rolled through her, Camille eased her fingers away, slowly letting her pussy lips close, sticky and shining. The men held her in place, gently now, as if cradling something holy.

Then, breathless and radiant, Lara collapsed forward into their arms. She twitched once more as Camille took a final close-up.

The guys gently lowered her to the towel they'd laid in the sand. Lara flopped down with exaggerated drama, sprawled on her back, arms flung to the sides, breathing like someone who'd just climbed a mountain in heels.

Camille stepped into frame and crouched beside her, brushing a kiss across her forehead. "You're ridiculous," she whispered. "And so fucking beautiful."

Lara smirked through her breath. "How do I look?"

"Like a five-star dessert no one can afford."

Lara giggled, then moaned again--just a soft aftershock as her thighs shifted and closed, slick and sticky.

Camille stood, brushing sand from her knees, and turned to the three men with a wicked smile.

"Gentlemen," she said. "Thank you for your assistance. I've got the best holiday souvenirs ever." Then she winked. "Want copies? I can send them.. or better yet, we'll bring them to dinner."