With a deep groan, I sank back into the canvas of the chair, pushing my toes out through the sand as I stretched back and relaxed. The warmth of the summer sun radiated down on my bare skin, making my body tingle and glow under the mid-day heat. I closed my eyes behind my shades as I let myself totally relax out here in my element.

I loved the beach in the summertime; loved the way my bikini-clad body soaked up the sun and the way I could just relax out here.

Of course, I was hardly relaxing at the moment. My entire head was still back there on the side of the road; my whole body still bent over, spread, thrilling at the feel of the cop’s hands on my skin. I tried to let it all go, tried to clear my head and just let myself stare out at the ocean and relax. But try as I might, I couldn’t get out of my own head.

First, it was feeling the betrayal in my kitchen that morning, looking at the graphic pictures of the girl my fiancé was cheating on me with. But then being made to submit like that on the side of the road by those two hunky, commanding cops had added an entirely new element to the already confused emotions coursing through my head.

I squirmed in my beach chair, squeezing my thighs together and blushing behind my sunglasses as I felt the lips of my pussy rub deliciously together, still slippery with the heat of that moment on the side of the road.

Clearing my head be damned, the fantasy came rushing back full-force. In my head, I pictured the two cops walking up to me right there on the beach.

“Miss, that bikini is a bit too small for a place like this. We’re going to have to issue you a ticket. That is, unless you DO something for us…”

I could feel my cheeks go bright pink, from much more than the hot California sun as I let the fantasy play out in my head. I pictured the already sexually-charged pat-down from earlier getting even more physical. In my head, both of them were running their hands over me, pulling my bikini from my body and bending me over the car right there on the side of the road, the two of them taking turns and…and…

Yikes, get a grip lady!

Biting my lip, I looked around the empty beach. It was nine in the morning on a Tuesday — hardly prime beach time, especially at the more private, residents-only one off the beaten path here in our town. I could see one solitary other figure in a beach chair way down the shore, and much closer to the parking lot, but that was it.

Realizing I was basically alone with my fantasies lit a sort of a fire in me, and I suddenly felt myself thinking bolder and naughtier thoughts than I’d ever usually dream of. It felt so forbiddingly taboo to indulge the fantasy, to let my nipples tingle to hard buds beneath my bikini top, my aching pussy slowly getting wetter and wetter under my bottoms. I found myself moaning softly as I gently squeezed my thighs together, feeling the heat of my desire throbbing there as my aching clit begged for attention. I brought myself right back to the fantasy, there on the side of the road with the two muscled men in uniform.

I let my hand trail down to my waist, and then down over my hips to trail my fingertip up the edge of my suit by my thigh. I pictured the two cops tearing my suit from my body, making me gasp as my body was exposed to them.

I glanced around the empty beach once more, before I slowly pushed my fingertip beneath the suit and moaned as it slid over my lips. I slipped the finger up higher, feeling the sticky wetness of my opening and dragging it up to my throbbing clit as I slowly moved my fingers over myself beneath my bikini bottoms.

Yeah, it had been entirely too long since I’d been touched. So much so that a pat-down on the side of the road had my body needing release.

I tried to imagine what sort of cocks the two of them had underneath those tight, crisp uniforms. I pictured them coming up on both sides of me, kissing my lips and my neck as two sets of hands roamed my body and two big hard cocks pressed into me.

Spreading my legs as wide as I dared, I eased a finger into my tight slit as I brought my other hand down to slip beneath my bottoms and rubbed my needy, aching clit. I began to fuck myself slowly, easing a finger in and out of my tight opening as I moved my other fingertips in small deliberate circles around my clit.

Thinking of two big men taking me hard on the side of the road, and thrilling at how brazen I was being despite the beach being obviously empty had me gasping in no time. My fingers rolled over my clit, the heat came rushing through my body, and I came — hard. Biting my lip to be as quiet as possible, I felt my whole body seize up and release as my subtle, desperate climax ripped through me there in my beach chair, while I thought of the two hunky cops.

* * *

There was a scrawled note on the kitchen counter from Tim when I got home late in the afternoon.

“Went out for a while with a potential job prospect. Please ask before you take the convertible, Sam.”

That was it.

“Please ask before you—”

Oh, fuck off, Tim.

I wasn’t sure what I was even going to say to him when I came home, or even if I was going to say anything at all. But finding him gone took the wind out of my sails right there. And that whole bullshit about a “job prospect”? Please.

I ignored the storm raging through my head as I poured myself a healthy glass of chardonnay.

Suddenly, I froze. Jesus, I knew exactly what he was doing. I could picture him, groggily waking up from his bender the night before, coming downstairs for coffee, seeing his phone where he’d assumed he’d probably left it the night before. He’d probably felt relieved that I hadn’t seen it, especially when he’d opened it up to see the messages from her.

Her.

That’s where he was right then. Suddenly, I felt like even more of an idiot. Just earlier, I’d actually admonished myself for having even a fantasy about another man — or men — while my cheating, scumbag fiancé was on his way to actually see another girl!

I gritted my teeth and started to storm out of the house, when I stopped. There, over on the side table was his phone, just sitting there.

I walked over to it, and slowly found myself picking it up and opening it up. There, right there, was the same text message conversation with the same little slut from before. Only now, instead of a picture on the screen, there was an address.

I bit my lip, staring at the address. I knew this was a terrible idea. And maybe the glass of wine I’d already half-slugged down had gone to my head more than I’d realized, but I didn’t even stop to consider turning around until I was past that point anyways, speeding off in the convertible.