Wet Sand
a Tom Hiddleston drabble
by avenger-nerd-mom
Word Count 676
Warnings: Language, Fluff, Nudity
Tom and his new secret love enjoy an evening walk on the beach…
April 2017
Walking along the shore, Tom and his lovely fair-haired companion gaze out over the horizon, watching the birds dip and swoop for their evening meal. Tom carries his shoes and wonders if she left hers on the terrace after dinner. Her long flowing dress trails in the water and the blue and purple swirls of fabric at her tiny feet remind him of a mermaid. “Isn’t that the dress you bought in Milan a few weeks ago? It’s quite lovely,” he compliments.
She side-eyes him, bumping her elbow into his arm. “Are you afraid I’m ruining it in the water?”
He chuckles quietly. “Well… far be it from me to tell you what to do; it’s your vacation home- but yes, won’t the water cause damage? It was rather expensive, as I recall.”
Stepping ahead, she turns on her heels to face him. Gathering the fabric up to her hips, she kicks and splashes him playfully. With his long legs, he kicks back and water and sand spot across the front of her dress. “So sorry! I was only-” Tom begins his famous apologies before she cuts him off.
“Ruined now. It’s ruined.” Reaching up, she feels the globs of sand on top of her head. “And sand in my hair?” She tsk-tsks, looking down at her chest, the wet sand clinging to the tanned globes peeking out from the deep v-neck cut of the summer gown. “Well, that’s that, I guess.” Her eyes locked on his, she pulls the dress over her head, revealing herself to be totally nude under the flimsy gauzy fabric. She tosses the dress to him and backs slowly into the water. “You’ve made me dirty, Tom. That wasn’t very nice.”
Dropping his eyes, he looks away, embarrassed not by her natural display but by the instant need it creates in him. Hearing a splash as she twists and dives away, he turns with a smile to watch her swim from the shore.
“Aren’t you worried the ships on the horizon have paparazzi with telephoto lens?” He asks, thinking back to another time he once played on the beach with a woman and how it did not end well.
“It wouldn’t be the first time my breasts have graced the tabloids, dear,” she mocks before diving under again, her sweet little ass rising above the water’s surface before disappearing. Springing up, she pushes the wet hair back from her face. “Are you too afraid to have your cock on display? It’s very beautiful… You should strip down and join me. The water’s perfect.”
“And have the press finally catch us together, as a couple?” He asks, wondering if this might truly be her plan.
She giggles, swirling in dizzying circles, creating her own current around her. It reminds him of their life together, always spinning in circles, waiting for one wave to crash into the other.
“I’m your fashion designer, Tom. They already caught me with my hands down your pants a few weeks ago. Purely of a business nature, of course.” She winks. “What’s the point of keeping it secret any longer?”
“Darling, I’m more than happy to step out in the press with you, if that’s what you want; if you think we’re ready, but…” he shields his eyes from the setting sun, again eyeing the ships with wary. “Dropping my trousers in daylight to skinny dip with you isn’t what I had in mind.”
“Oh, really. Then tell me, Mr. Hiddleston. What do you have in mind?” She asks, her voice throaty and full of lust and desire.
Clutching the designer dress tighter in his hands, he begins to slowly back away. “I think I’d rather steal your clothes and watch you run along the path, naked, back up to the cottage.”
“TOM! You wouldn’t!” Thrashing through the water, she tries to reach him, but she’s too late, as she watches him sprint down the shore to the path leading to her secluded beach home. “That British fucker,” she complains, taking off after him, water dripping down her shapely body.
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