Which was what she was thinking about as she strolled down the walkway onto the beach, the sand getting between her toes and the smell of the ocean and what was left of the sun trying to catch itself in her hair -- there were maybe four people she'd passed in the whole time she'd been out walking. And it was just nice, it was nice to be out of Boston, it was nice that the destination wasn't New York (not that she didn't miss New York more than she'd ever let on to anybody else). It was nice to be alone. Her thoughts paused as she started walking closer to the actual shore where the waves were starting to raise just a bit to bring the sand back to the bottom of everything. Maybe alone wasn't the best thing.

She sat in the sand, the wrap she'd had tied around her waist coming off into a makeshift sit-upon, far enough away from the water that she wouldn't have to worry about waking up with a sea star planted smack on her thigh if she decided to take a nap there - and she might. She might do that, how long had it been since she relaxed like that in particular? Years, something like years. Stretching out her legs in the soft, heated sand, her toes dug in under and half planted her legs - enjoying the way that it felt, her ankles held firmly while she laid back down into the soft warm, watching the sun tease at the idea of thinking about trying to peek through the clouds before it was gone for good.

Ro had moved to lay more on her side, her sight focusing on the slow motion of the cool blue color as it went back and forth -- it was kind of helping regulating her breathing a bit, made her stop worrying about how she might have looked in front of ..well they all looked kind of like models, didn't they? The women that were there were all sleek with strong shoulders, beautifully lined noses and eyes that practically sparkled without trying - even when they were bored, and how did they do that, didn't she used to do that? Or was that just something she thought she could do and no one had the heart to tell her otherwise -- all things were possible, after all.

These ideas weren't the best things to focus on, these odd tickles in the back of her thoughts while she was watching the ocean. And how cliche was that, exactly - she chided herself as she kept her slowly shutting eyes on the color that was dragging itself closer up onto the shore. There was a long, airy sigh at the thought, shaking her head while her hand came up to her hip, idly twisting and turning the loose ties at the side of her bikini bottoms - the way she'd turned left specks, crumbs of sand across the back of her thighs and on her upper arms, and there was a moment there in the quiet, smother-y kind of graying heat that she did tell herself that it wasn't going to be what it was ..sadly, probably sadly? Why was it sadly if she was on vacation and no one was around? ..no, maybe it wasn't sadly.

But it did turn into what she thought it would, and there was a low, raspy groangiggle after realising it, too.

Rather than trying to convince herself that she was just interested in how the fabric felt when it was dry vs wet, Roman let her hands wander from trying to remove the specks of sand from her legs to let her hands stroke down and over, wandering across the tops of her legs, just barely teasing the idea of moving to the soft, warm skin of her thighs and then back up. Her fingertips smoothed over her stomach and down to briefly squeeze over her hips -- ...this was the part where she glanced up to the side and back again, making sure she was, for the most part, going unnoticed and largely alone. Once she'd done that, there was a brief passing over her chest, her hands moving to either side of her breasts to push them together and rest and then again -- she actually, really, she really was kind of happy she was shaped the way she was, not something that she tended to go on at any kind of length about, not seriously. But her soft parts, those were pretty good. Although while she was happy to think of that, it was plainly apparent to her that this was not what she wanted. Not at all.

Letting her eyes fall shut again, Roman hummed a soft sound while she tried to think of something that she did want.

It wasn't as if it'd taken her that long until she'd settled on a thought, a hitch up in her chest enough so that it felt like her breasts were, after a few breaths, going to feel like her top was on too tight. The thought that she'd landed on, it wasn't something surprising. Her mouth quirked up in a grin, biting at her lower lip as she remembered the other day - the way that she was nervous and flustered when she'd landed on what she wanted to do, not all of it, not even close to all of it. Her thoughts drifting to a time when she knew when someone was just happy to lurk across the street and never bother to tell her, maybe because he thought she already knew he was there. Another time when it had been just after the darkest part of the night and she'd been scooped up and put - not placed, not suggested with subtle movements, not necessarily with an absence of care but just... on a counter top, with words just brimming against the idea of being mean bubbling against her skin while she was being whispered against. Because how could she do that and why, and Ro could hear the weird kind of want in her thoughts, still, the kind that coupled with brief selfish touches and she just....that's what it was. She purred softly while her knees started to move apart, her left hand had gone back to stroking along the top of her leg and just barely having started to meet the fabric at her hip.

She had been propped up sorta-kinda by her right arm, but that was stopping as she'd slid down onto the ground, her back meeting the covered part of the sand that had her cover up over it with a soft moan that got lost, thankfully, in the other noises that were just barely out of her mind's reach --

But it wasn't, that wasn't what she wanted, not really. Huffing a stray curl out of her face that had worked it's way over from all her moving around, her eyes stayed shut as she tried to refocus - there were parts there that were working, but not, it wasn't that, that's not what she thought she wanted. She sighed again, her first two fingertips finally dragging over the front of her bikini bottoms - it'd felt like she'd made herself wait long enough, it was, wasn't it? It wasn't the customary until she couldn't sit still anymore time limit she imposed on herself when she was at home, but. When she was at home - when she got to come over to visit, that night that he'd let her lay her head on his shoulder and she could practically taste the skin on his throat from being close enough to smell his neck and that, that, she made a less-than-quiet whimper at the thought, remembering how she'd hugged him goodnight and how big his hands were when they were around her back -- there was the deep breath and the strain and want to take off her top. Her right hand slipping up her side to pull some of the fabric to the side, not exactly all, but enough, enough so that she could palm at herself, rolling her fingers over her not-so-slowly stiffening nipple at alternating swipes. And that, that was - it was better, she felt her thighs tense just a touch as her mouth'd dropped open in a small 'o' as she'd let her hand drop down lower against herself, knowing from the pressure her fingers thrummed against her covered pussy that she was warmer, she was wetter than she'd anticipated earlier. Or maybe, maybe it was just --

Her thoughts turned back to kissing him again, the way that her lipstick smudged across his mouth and how she could imagine how his tongue would taste against hers -- she dipped her fingers just barely under the hem of her bikini, slowly dragging and petting down the soft skin of her lips once, twice, then back up and over the fabric of her bottoms, making a soft ecking noise that she wasn't happy but she was, it just wasn't. They weren't the right hands, were they. She mumbled a curse and tried to let her mind drift back to where she'd been - not lingering on the disappointing fact that her hands were the wrong ones.

Not too so long after, the kissing wasn't really enough, it was enough to make her a little frustrated but it wasn't. That wasn't it, it wasn't right - her thoughts moving and clouding around as the hand that had been at her chest moved up, her tongue lapping and curling around her index finger absolutely thoughtlessly after her thumb had skimmed across the corner of her mouth and it was there -- it was right there, a wanton moan just pushing past the fingers in her mouth while her skin hummed and burned at the most obvious thought in the whole world. Or at least it had been to her.

It wasn't something that she tried to make obvious, but there were a few scattered occasions when her eyes had wandered down from the way his shoulders worked. Well sometimes she looked at things she shouldn't have, and sometimes she liked rolling around in the fact that she knew she shouldn't have been looking. Her thoughts running and sparking up sometimes at how his pants fit, if she could see something there in the dark that one time they sat on the sofa with the lights out, if hands were really honestly had anything to do with judging - and she'd found that most times, they really weren't. But. But for right now -

Her fingers slipped under her bikini, at first just barely grazing over the all too warm, all too flustered skin she now was very aware how much she needed to touch - but there were other things to think about first, her other hand, her finger slowly being sucking into her mouth and rolling her tongue along the underside - that's why it was important to remember how his fingers felt held against her chin, remembering the way he smelled at two in the morning, like the last orange parts of the sun and hot pavement and resin and dark liquor, she wanted, so much, as her fingers slipped between her legs and slid along a quickly soaking ache - she wanted to sit in front of him on her knees, it'd been a long time and she missed doing that. She imagined the feeling of his fist curled up soft in her hair, her nails and hands scraping and running along his sides, sitting up just a little more so she could press her breasts against the crotch of his pants while she kissed along his stomach and down to nose and graze her teeth against the skin just under his navel, the way that she'd try very, very hard to be quiet - she wasn't sure where she stood with that anymore, the thought popped up as her fingers rolled and teased at the wetness of her cunt to bring it back and circle her clit with - accidentally biting down on her finger and squeaking at how everything felt there in the open air with the sand on her back.

She imagined the little nuzzles, the flex in his fingers -- wanting to be as slow as she could but not at all, not even a little bit, her mouth open and hot while she stroked him through his pants before bringing his zipper down, the coo that she imagined, it hit the air as she saw him in her head - she wasn't sure, but she was ..she had a good guess, his cock half hard in her hand, bringing her lips up to the shaft to mouth kisses along his length while she stroked and squeezed when she got down to the base and back up again, her head getting dizzier as her fingers worked just a little faster between her legs - her middle finger now starting to tease where all her heat and the slickness was pooling from her pussy, making her choke out a sob with a shake in her knees. But. But But she hummed and drew her fingers back to rub her clit again.

The picture working itself faster in her head - she moved her tongue around the head of his cock, purring and lapping at the slit on his head as she'd moved back down, pulling his boxers and his pants down just around his thighs so she could move her hands more freely, pulling her top away as her mouth moved a further down, kissing and sucking and laving attention around his balls while she murmured little sounds and held on to his knee with her other hand. That's what she wanted, Roman could practically feel the heat off of his body there in the wide open nothing of the beach that she was on and why was she alone, anyway -- her fingers dipping down to slip inside of her, not one, two, moaning in frustration at how not big enough her fingers were as she thought about how her mouth would be full, back to her throat and she could feel when she'd pull back from having his dick all the way back in her mouth and then nothing, with the thick strands of spit connecting her lips to his head while she went back to jerking him off --- she could almost hear his voice when..

No. No That wasn't -- that was from down the water way a bit.

Roman's head popped up as she pulled her hands away, moving her bikini top back over her breasts with a concerned look off in the distance. She.. wasn't.. She wasn't alone anymore. And what was worse - she didn't get to. She wasn't. It was right there it was so close and.

Her face was pink and flushed and more than a little irritated, her thighs coming together to squeeze tight so she could maybe, maybe there was -- she pursed her mouth and shook her head, the ratty curls going every which way for a second then she'd licked at her fingers while she found her feet to stand up.

No.

She needed to put her wrap back on and find that place up the beach where she could spray herself off.

Those were always, always just cold water.