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Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


A beach isn't as private as always assumed


A beach isn't as private as always assumed


Submitted: February 06, 2018

A A A | A A A


Submitted: February 06, 2018



Her breasts nearly crashed my boat. I didn’t expect to see anyone on what I thought of as my beach, much less a bare-breasted vision standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at me. But when the hull of my boat started to nudge against one of the rocks that I was easing around on the approach, I had to devote my full attention to the task.

I thought of it as my beach because it was so spectacularly difficult to reach. The small island was on the windward side of a barrier island off the coast, where nearby large river emptied into the Atlantic. As a result, the water was always choppy.

The smaller island, which I thought of as Sleepy Cove (because I never failed to take a nap there), harbored a small, calm lagoon. But even at high tide, the lagoon was a minefield of jagged rocks. Getting through it required both skill and knowledge of where each obstacle was, which I had acquired as a reckless teenager borrowing dad’s boat. If he had known the risks I was taking, he’d never have let me use the vintage Chris-Craft.

There were trade-offs to approaching Sleepy Cove. Too big a boat and you couldn’t navigate the rocky lagoon. Too small, and you wouldn’t make it through the dangerous water to reach the island in the first place.

The twenty-three-foot cabin cruiser was about the biggest boat that could navigate the lagoon, and only if I was the one piloting it. The way through wasn’t easy. Pushed up onto the sand, a thirteen-foot Boston Whaler showed me how my topless friend had arrived. I was impressed; the light boat was perfect for getting through the lagoon, but small for the approach to the island itself.

By the time I had gotten my boat through the last of the rocks, she had put on a shirt and waded into the water to help me with the anchor lines. I was surprised that she hadn’t simply put on a bikini top, but maybe it was the closest thing she had at hand. My boat was too heavy to push up onto the sand, and so needed to be restrained by two anchors, one off the bow, and one from the stern, to keep even the quiet water from slewing it about.

“You know what you’re doing,” she commented, still looking cranky, but with grudging respect at the way I had navigated through the lagoon. Sea gulls wheeled and cried overhead.

“You must too, if you were able to get here in that,” I said, nodding towards her Whaler. “I’m jealous that you can just push up onto the sand.”

She had slipped in the waist-deep water, going under and making her shirt transparent. The early July water was still painfully cold; her nipples stood out clearly, two dark, hard points. I did my best not to appear to look. She had short blond hair, and a strong, sleek body, with a deep-water tan. Squint lines crinkled the corners of her grey eyes. She looked five years or so younger than my thirty-two. If I had to share my beach, I could do much worse for attractive company.

I decided to deal with the elephant on the beach, our mutual annoyance at the other’s presence. “I’m guessing you didn’t think anyone else knew this place, but I’ve been coming here since I was fourteen.”

“I’ve been coming here since I was a kid too,” she replied.

“But I’m older, so I guess I beat you to it. I left a sign once, but I guess it’s gone now.”

Her eyes flashed with excitement. “Wait! Are you Mike or Jamie? I used to see that sign when I first started coming, and I always wondered about it.”

Mike and Jamie’s Nude Beach. We’d carved the letters into a flat piece of driftwood and staked it at the edge of the beach. The beach had been the perfect place for complete privacy. Our parents were all strict, and we’d only been able to find alone time here. How many times had we had sex here the summer after senior year in high school? Dozens?

“I’m Mike,” I introduced myself, shaking her hand, keeping my eyes up, away from the see-through fabric clinging to her shapely breasts. “And I’m guessing from what you weren’t wearing when I was pulling in that you come here for the same reason we did?”

“Moira,” she answered, “Yeah, it’s the perfect place to work on losing my tan-lines,”

Back on the sand, she kept walking, her back to me, until she got to the beach roses at the end of the beach. Her ass was spectacular, not completely covered by the material of her black bikini bottom. She started pushing plants aside with her hands until I realized she was looking for the old sign. I helped her, and in a few minutes we found it, not too much the worse for wear, though the weather had faded the letters.

In the shade of the scraggly trees at the edge of the sand, the breeze was cool and pleasant, and besides the crash of the waves and the occasional cry from a gull, there was no other noise.

She asked, with a twinkle in her eye, “So you and Jamie would come out here and get naked, work on your tans?”

“Something like that,” I answered, pounding the sign back into place. “It wasn’t really about tanning. It’s how we found privacy away from our parents, who wouldn’t have understood. We were naked for other reasons.”

“Understood,” she said, hooking her arms across the bottom of her shirt and pulling it over her head. “Well, I never had the benefit of company, so I always came here for my own private nude beach.”

Her shirt had been so transparent that taking it off didn’t really reveal more than I had already seen, but I was surprised at her boldness. Her breasts were large and firm, with small, dark nipples, still crinkled from the cold fabric of her shirt. There was no hint of a tan-line; her breasts were as tan as the rest of her. I followed suit by taking off my own shirt, both of us walking back to the sunnier part of the beach.

I waded out back to the Chris-Craft to get my towel, cooler, and umbrella. When I turned back, Moira was just stepping out of her bottoms. If I’d been surprised before, I was shocked now. Getting completely naked in front of a complete stranger was a forward move. Was she just that determined to tan in the nude? Or would I be a fool not to take this as an invitation? I decided to wait at least until I could be more sure. And did she expect me to strip down as well? I had no problem with tanning naked, especially not on this beach, but… the early July water I had just waded through was very cold.

Her bottom half revealed at least a trace of a tan-line, although very faint, and apparently left by bikini bottoms of varying sizes. Either shaved or waxed completely bare, she was rubbing suntan lotion onto her thighs and pussy lips, leaving them glistening. My cock started to harden in my shorts. I turned away and willed my erection to subside, focusing on the tasks of unrolling my towel and setting up my umbrella. The sand was very fine, and the umbrella didn’t want to stay up. Miraculously, wrestling with it distracted me enough for my hard-on to go away.

Her voice came from behind. “An umbrella? Doesn’t that miss the whole point of being here?”

“It’s for the cooler. I wouldn’t want the drinks to get warm,” I answered, turning back to face her, placing my Igloo cooler in the center of the shade.

She placed her small cooler next to mine. “Good thinking,” she told me, a smile on her lips. In the warmth of the sun, her nipples had softened from their earlier hardness. I found myself thinking about how it would feel to lean over and take one in my mouth, sucking and licking it back to its earlier turgid state. On cue, I felt another tingling in my trunks. This was a dangerous line of thought, and I tried to change gears.

Moira still puzzled me. I’d felt her eyes on me when I’d take off my shirt, but it was more of an appraising (and approving) look than a lustful one. Her willingness to take off her clothes in about as secluded a place as possible with a complete stranger seemed especially odd given the fact that I wasn’t detecting any hint of invitation from her. She liked what she saw, but she was either not interested, or not acting on it. But why wouldn’t she think that I wouldn’t take her nudity as a come-on?

Her eyes flicked to my shorts, as if to ask the obvious question. Would I peel down as well? I hadn’t particularly planned on it, though if I’d been alone I would have eventually gotten naked and masturbated in the open air, a practice that I liked when I came here by myself.

I was nervous about it, in part because I’d have to apply sunscreen to my genitals, a surefire way to bring my erection back, with her naked body just a yard or so from mine. But keeping my trunks on seemed increasingly silly, especially since the sign said that this was my nude beach.

I sighed and hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my shorts. In a quick, sure motion, I pulled them down my legs. From the corner of my eye, I saw Moira look over; she was sneaking a peek. Again, her gaze appeared more curious and approving than truly lustful, but she was definitely checking me out. I was immaturely pleased that my earlier incipient erections had left my penis in a thicker, heavier state than full softness.

As I stepped out of my shorts, Moira’s gaze snapped back away from me, and back to her paperback. I started the process of applying sunscreen from head to toe. Again, I noticed her eyes flick toward me when I got to my cock. I concentrated as much as I could on avoiding an erection, and succeeded, mostly. I wasn’t full-blown hard, but my penis definitely lifted away from my body enough to be noticeable.

The whole situation felt very strange. Except for my highschool years coming here with Jamie, I’d never spent too much time naked outdoors in broad daylight. And Jamie had been my girlfriend; the sexual vibe was a given. Having to essentially fondle my hardening penis as a completely naked stranger watched felt surreal.

“Feel good?” she asked, with a laughing tone.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” I answered, reddening. Was this really happening?

“No worries,” she answered, “You’re definitely not the only person to ever be inspired by the location.” The thought of her masturbating on “my” beach was distracting, although it did nothing useful for my partial erection.

Closing her eyes, she asked, “And maybe you were remembering your time here with Jamie?”

“Maybe a little,” I answered, technically the truth. I watched her more boldly once I knew she couldn’t see me look. She had golden skin, with a light sheen of sweat from the sun. Sunscreen also made her glisten. Her body was toned in a real way. Her tone didn’t seem to come from a stairmaster or crossfit; rather, she looked like someone who had been active in various ways her whole life. I wondered if she sailed.

Her pussy drew my attention. Beside’s Jamie’s (who hadn’t shaved), Moira’s was the only one I’d seen in the outdoors light of day. It felt incredibly intimate to see her like this despite, or maybe in fact because of, how little I knew her. Again, I marveled at her boldness, or perhaps complete lack of inhibition described it better. Her lips were smooth and beautiful, and perhaps just the slightest bit parted. I thought I could see the delicate pink of her inner lips.

I shook my head and looked away. It was a good thing that her eyes were closed, as my erection was no longer partial. I opened my cooler and grabbed a handful of ice, taking two beers out as well. I flinched as I held a cube against my penis, causing it to soften and me to sigh in relief. Her eyes opened as I cracked the first beer, and her look of longing for the Corona in my hand was almost comical.

I handed it over to her, eliciting a beautiful smile, so much better than the scowl she had greeted me with. “It’s not my favorite,” I said, “But there’s something about a Corona on the beach. Reminds me of spring break in college.”

“It’s cold; that’s all that matters,” she said, clinking her bottle against mine.

We drank in comfortable silence. I almost forgot my awkwardness at my nudity. A few moments later, she asked me a question that confused me. “Do you ever still see him?”


“Jamie,” she answered.

And in that moment, everything fell into place. She’d thought Jamie was a guy, which meant she’d assumed we were a gay couple when I’d said we came here for privacy. I felt better immediately. While I was happy that she hadn’t perceived me as a threat, her apparent lack of sexual interest had bruised my ego. I was just about to correct her when it occurred to me that it might be fun not to tell her the truth right away. Maybe it wasn’t lack of interest on her part; maybe it was assuming that I couldn’t possibly be interested.

“No, we haven’t seen each other in quite some time. We’re Facebook friends though, and I see a lot of family pictures. Jamie has two beautiful little girls.”

I’d tell her the truth soon, but for now it was fun to see what I might be able to get away with. We drank quietly, enjoying the breeze, the beach, and the beer. I looked over from time to time, enjoying the sight of her body as well, feeling like a voyeur, because, even though she knew I was looking,  I was getting away with something that she didn’t know about.

She finished her beer before I did and looked as if she wanted a second. A true gentleman, I finished mine so that I could offer another.

“I’ll get it,” she told me, getting up and squatting near the cooler. As I turned my head, I found that her gorgeously smooth pussy was less than a yard away from my head. Now I definitely could see the delicate, coral-pink inner lips peeking out between her bare lips.

“Can I ask a personal question?” I asked as she stood back up.

“Shoot,” she told me, taking a healthy pull from the bottle. I imagined her lips around my cock, which made me stir again. I felt less embarrassed. I could be thinking about Jamie, after all. Nonetheless, it was going to be a bold question.

“Do you shave or wax? I shave my shaft and balls, and I keep the rest trimmed short, but it seems like I have to touch it up just about every day, which is kind of a pain.” I wanted her bringing her attention to my cock, even as I asked her about her pussy. Speaking so bluntly was odd, but oddly liberating, and I wondered how much trouble I’d be in when I did reveal the truth.

She blushed a little, even as my question did in fact bring her gaze towards my penis. She sat up, turning a little to face me, even as her hand went unconsciously to her pussy, as if to check just how smooth she was. Turning as she sat, she faced me, giving me a better angle, and herself a better view of me.

“Wax, usually,” she said, reddening. “It lasts longer, and I hate shaving.”

I treated myself to an undisguised stare. I wanted to lick her, to feel those smooth lips under my mouth and tongue, even as I had to exert supreme concentration not to harden further.

“But you have to let it grow out a little before you can wax again?” I knew this from various female friends, who liked to discuss such things for shock value in the alcohol-fueled bravery that came with being in groups. And of course their pussies weren’t on display as they outdid each other with horror stories of stern Asian women arranging them into embarrassing positions before waxing them smooth.

“Yeah, but since I’m so blonde, it’s not as big a deal, and it grows in finer now. It’s actually been about a week now, and it’s still in good shape.”

Her composure was faltering, and I think only her fear at seeming repressed in front of an automatically cool “gay man” kept her going, even as we both stared at her pussy. I could see fine golden hairs, which hadn’t been evident earlier, but it was barely peach fuzz. Her expression was peculiar; I imagined she felt strange, to say the least, to be discussing and inspecting her pussy on the beach with a strange man.

No amount of concentration was keeping me soft, and my growing hard-on was obvious to us both. Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as my penis grew. “I have a confession to make,” I told her, enjoying the early summer breeze on my unfurled erection. “Jamie was my girlfriend. I’m not gay.”

One hand immediately went to cover her pussy, while she shielded her breasts with the other arm. She looked for all the world like one of those old-fashioned pinups, a Vargas girl surprised bathing, her mouth making a little O of surprise as she covered herself. She looked around, searching for her bikini bottom and tee-shirt.

I handed her my spare towel, even as she started to relax, realizing that it was silly to hide what had been on display for quite some time. Her face was scarlet as she held the towel over her body. “That wasn’t very nice, making me think Jamie was a guy.”

“It wasn’t planned,” I responded. “Everyone at school knew her, so it didn’t occur to me that you thought she was a he until you asked if I was still in touch with him. And I didn’t realize until then why you were so comfortable being naked in front of me, so I went with it.”

She relaxed, allowing the towel to expose her breasts. I looked, while making a show of pretending not to look, and she laughed. “I guess there’s no point in this, now that you’ve seen everything.”

With that, she lowered the towel more. There was an electricity in the air now that the truth was out. She was looking at me, but in a different way. Her eyes flicked towards my cock, still mostly hard, even as she tried either not to look, or not to appear to be looking. Finally, she asked, now looking fixedly towards the softly lapping waves, but gesturing towards my penis, “Is that just from… looking at me?”


“That’s very flattering.”

“Well, you’re very beautiful.”

She looked over at me, her eyes fixed on mine. Determined not to seem rude, she was looking anywhere but below my neck. “Thank you, Mike.” Then, looking away again, after another pull of beer, “You’re handsome too.”

Somehow, over the course of that beer, we both relaxed. I got my spare towel back, and we both enjoyed the sight of each other’s bodies, though we tended to look when we thought the other wasn’t looking. As the morning went on, we splashed in the frigid water to cool off. I shared half my sandwich with her, and she gave me some of her hummus and baby carrots, washed down with much water.

After lunch, the soft crashing sound of the waves on the shore, along with the full feeling from the simple meal, started to make me drowsy. The island was living up to its name once again. I closed my eyes and went with it; even the gulls’ hoarse cries sounded soothing as I drifted off.

Some time later, I became aware of the light being different. Half asleep, I opened my eyes to see that Moira had moved the umbrella so that it shaded me. She had arranged her towel next to me in the shade. Less than a foot away, her sleeping body was dappled in soft shadows. I could even smell her sunscreen, different from mine, with its scent of coconut.

Yet again, I hardened. This time it seemed less to do with the sight of her than the nearness. Pheromones? I watched her for a while, her breasts rising and falling in her sleep. My hand, with a mind of my own, found my erection and stroked it. Moira’s legs were spread invitingly, with her right knee drawn up.

As I watched, she made a small moaning noise. At the same time, her hand slid to her pussy. My angle didn’t let me see exactly what she was doing, but my cock throbbed to full, almost painful hardness.

I got up and stood at her feet to watch. She was glorious, golden skin in shadow, glistening with sweat and suntan lotion, her hand working between her legs as she made small sounds of pleasure. Her nipples had hardened to delicious points again. My own hand was pumping my erection slowly as I watched her. I wondered how mortified she might be to know that she’d been masturbating in her sleep in front of me.

I considered “climbing on board” and waking her by pressing my erection into her visibly wet pussy, but decided against it. I thought she was actually asleep, not pretending to be, and fucking her awake was not a step I was willing to take with someone I didn’t know better. Besides, I longed to taste those bare lips, a smoothness my tongue had never known.

Her legs were spread far enough to allow me to lie between them. I lay on my side, which allowed me to continue jerking off. For a while, I watched, my face a bare six inches from her hand and pussy. Her pussy was lovely. Her inner lips were a coral-pink rose, and they gleamed with abundant dew. Her finger rubbed gently at her clit. She was breathing fast and deep, with an occasional moan as punctuation. I remembered her earlier comment about masturbating on the beach, and I wondered how often she’d pleasured herself, asleep or awake, on this very spot.

It was too much for me; I had to taste her. I shifted myself forward a few inches, pausing before I touched her. I could smell her arousal, which somehow smelled like the sea. I trailed my tongue along the outside of one of her outer lips. The smoothness was intoxicating. She tasted like clean sweat, and a hint of sunscreen. She sighed as my tongue swept along her smooth lips, gently moving her finger aside.

I licked along the outside of her for a few moments, before sliding my tongue between her folds. Her true aroma was heady, tangy, and clean; she tasted wonderful. The beach sloped gently, and her head was higher than mine, so I could see her face more clearly than if we had been on a bed. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing quick.

As surreptitiously as possible, I looked at her as I licked between her delicate lips. Her face was a study in arousal, even as her eyes stayed closed in apparent sleep. However, as I allowed my tongue to probe deeper, her eyes opened for a moment, with complete understanding of what was going on. She looked down for a moment, not realizing I could see her open eyes. A second later, she shut them again, evidently wanting me to think she was asleep.

I licked deeper, sliding my tongue into her tight, intoxicating pussy. Her wetness was abundant, coating my lips, dripping down her cleft. I lapped at her, drinking it in, enjoying her taste, the feel of her. Knowing she was awake, I didn’t have to worry about waking her up, so I slid my index finger into the tight grip of her gorgeous cunt.

My tongue attended to her clit, while my finger pressed in, beckoning inside her, finding that spongy spot that made her body tense, eliciting moans of pleasure. She brought her hands to my head, even as she continued to pretend to sleep.

I decided to up the stakes. With my glistening finger, I rubbed along the pucker of her asshole. She gasped when my finger first made contact with her forbidden opening, but relaxed as my tongue continued to trace slow circles around her clit. Soon, the wetness from my finger and her pussy allowed me to push my finger into her anus to the first knuckle.

Almost imperceptible, her whisper reached my ear, “God, yes…”

Her eyes were still closed when I brought my tongue to flick around the rose that gripped my finger. With my other hand, I rubbed her clit. Slowly, encouraged by her reactions and the abundant moisture dripping from her pussy, I was able to push my finger in more deeply. I was probing at her anus with my tongue and my finger, licking around her rim as I pushed my index finger into her farther each time.

At the same time, my other thumb was rubbing lightly and insistently on her clit. Muscles in her bronzed inner thighs were dancing with tension; I could tell she was very close. Her ass gripped my finger tightly, but by now things were well lubricated, allowing me to finger her deeply and completely. I brought my tongue back to her clit and she exploded.

She didn’t say anything, but a deep moan ripped from her as every muscle in her body tensed, including her asshole, which exerted amazing pressure on my invading finger. After an eternity, which was likely only thirty seconds, she went limp, like something electric disconnected from its power source. I gently pulled my finger from her ass and planted a gentle kiss on her eager, open pussy.

My cock was throbbing painfully, and I wanted nothing more than to climb on top of her and fuck her. But, her eyes were still closed. She wanted to preserve the fiction of being asleep, which seemed to preclude an invitation to sex. It was clear that this was a game, and I wanted to play it right. Were we going to pretend, when all this was over, that nothing had happened? A convenient fiction for both of us? I decided that I needed a “nap” as well, and I went back to my towel, her body less than an arm length from mine.

I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. With my eyes closed, I was more aware of other stimuli. The breeze felt strange but also delightful on my stiff erection. As an experiment I opened my eyes as little as possible. Moira was propped on her side, her hand back between her legs and stroking herself lazily as she faced me. She looked undecided even as she drank in the sight of me, undetected, as far as she knew. I closed my eyes again and waited.

Time passed. I became very aware of sounds: the gentle roar of the waves, the gulls’ occasional hoarse cries, the slap of water against the hull of my boat and the clanking of my anchor chains. I could smell her arousal on my lips and mouth. Finally I heard movement. An instant later her hand closed around my engorged penis. I wanted to look, but I wasn’t sure if she was staring right at me, so I didn’t risk peeking. She pumped my erection slowly, almost experimentally.

The joker in me considered letting out a small snore, to really emphasize my being asleep, but I decided not to mess with a good thing. A few strokes later, she took me in her mouth. No preamble. No teasing licks, or fluttering tongue. Just a quick engulfing of my throbbing erection and eager, insistent sucking and head bobbing. Just barely cracking my eyelids, I risked a look. She was on her knees between my legs, one hand still rubbing her pussy as she sucked me.

Her tongue washed around the head with every up-stroke, making me tremble. A moan came out of me without warning, and I was able to clamp my eyes shut in case she decided to look up. Almost involuntarily, my hips were rising to meet the bobs of her head; I decided that I could allow the motion to continue, that it might be the way a sleeping man getting his dick sucked would react. I thrust up at her, my hips rising from the towel as I contributed to the blowjob by pressing into her mouth.

I felt her free hand slide up my stomach to my chest. At that point, I decided, fuck the fiction. Taking hold of her wrist, I pulled her up to me. She made a startled noise as her mouth popped off my cock. A moment later, her breasts were a soft, wonderful pressure against my chest, her nipples hard points. My cock throbbed urgently, trapped against her stomach.

Her eyes were wide as I brought my lips to hers. She looked momentarily unsure, as if this wasn’t the way she had thought this was going to go. Still, she returned my kiss with mounting passion. I wondered if she had ever sucked a man before kissing him before. I also wondered what would have happened if I had continued to feign sleep. Would she have sucked me to completion and gone back to her towel, at which point we would wake from our supposed naps, smile, and pretend nothing had happened? In her mind, would that have been a way of preserving her sense of being a good girl? If no one saw, had it ever happened?

My cock was so hard that it hurt. Moira was on top of me, but I didn’t want her this way. I slid out from underneath and quickly mounted her from behind. I could feel the head of my cock pressing against her open pussy as I took one wrist in each hand and pinned her face down to the towel. It would have been oh-so-easy to just press into her, but I wanted to wait, to draw out the moment.

Her body was tense underneath mine, and her breathing was rapid and ragged. My knees were between hers, keeping her spread open. My cockhead was just inside her lips. I kissed the back of her elegant neck. She was trembling, and I could smell sunscreen and salt on her skin. I held her like that, my hands tight on her wrists, exerting firm pressure, in command.

We were in equilibrium. She wanted to be fucked; I knew this. I also knew she wanted to preserve the fiction that this was not in her control. She assumed I’d just take. So I waited. She wiggled delightfully beneath me, eventually working her hips back at me. An invitation. I smiled, kissing the back of her neck once more.

“What do you want?” I whispered into the shell of her ear.

No answer except ragged breathing. Some things are hard to bring yourself to ask for.

“Tell me what you want, or it won’t happen.”

Again, no answer, but she thrust her hips and ass back at me as best she could, trying to impale herself on my cock. It was easy enough to retreat, keeping myself in the same “almost in” balance.

“You have to say it,” I told her.

Finally, a whisper in response, and even as close as I was, I barely heard it. She whispered into the towel her cheek was pressed against, “Fuck me.”

“Say it louder.”

“Fuck me!” This time her voice was audible, with a small tremor.

“Better,” I told her, pushing against her fractionally, letting her know I was getting ready to act. “But you have to say it louder. In fact, I want you to yell it. There’s no one to hear.”

“I… I can’t.”

I eased up on my cock’s pressure, retreating. She tried to follow, making a little mewl of disappointment. “Are you sure?” I asked, my voice soft in her ear, my lips at her neck.

She was louder this time. “Fuck me!” She would have drawn attention in public, and I rewarded her by rubbing my cock forward. I almost said fuck it! and pushed my way into her, but I held back.

“You can do better than that,” I whispered, planting a trail of barely there kisses on the back of her neck, my hands tight on her wrists, pressing them down, one on the edge of the towel, the other in the shaded sand.

Moaning in frustration, she pressed her ass back at me, desperately trying to bring me in. Finally, she screamed, “FUCK ME! PLEASE!” The capital letters were audible in the volume of her cry. She was so loud she momentarily silenced the seagulls. As soon as her words echoed back at me from the rocks that formed the cove, I slammed into her, unable and unwilling to wait any longer.

“Yes!” she moaned, as my cock buried itself in her all the way. Her core was molten; her heat felt like a furnace. She was very tight, yet impossibly slick. She melted against me as I fucked her. The coolness of the day was gone as our bodies pressed together, the sweat making us slippery, her back against my front.

Making her beg to be fucked turned out to be like taking a cork out of a bottle of dirty talk. “Your big cock feels so good in my… cunt.” She hesitated only a beat before the last word. It could have sounded like bad dialogue from a porno, but it had the benefit of being genuine. Her left hand clutched the corner of the towel hard while her right scrabbled in the sand.

She kept up a constant stream of “fuck me”s as my thrusting got harder and faster. I groaned in pleasure, her pussy a perfect vise around my erection. “Your cunt feels so damned tight and wet,” I murmured into her ear. “It’s going to feel so good to fill it with my cum.”

With that she started to struggle beneath me. It took me a while to realize she was alarmed, so I continued to hold her down, pinning her in place. “You can’t!” she cried, fear in her voice, as I stilled my thrusting. “I’m not on anything.”

“Don’t worry,” I whispered, “There’s always a backup plan.”

I pulled out of her and released her wrists. As she turned to look at me in confusion, I took hold of her hips and pulled them up, putting her in a modified doggie position. Her chest and face went back down onto the towel, but her ass and pussy were fully presented to me. Taking careful aim, I spit, scoring a perfect bullseye on her anus. She was still slick from my earlier efforts, as I discovered as I worked the makeshift lube into her.

“You’re not going to…” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Well, you don’t want me to cum in your cunt,” I interrupted, noting to myself that my cock was shiny and slippery from her pussy.


“Shh… it’s okay, I’ll be careful, but it’s going to happen.” I was no longer holding her, and I paused after I spoke, giving her the out she didn’t actually want. I had the feeling, though, that this was something she wanted, even if I didn’t think I could get her to scream her need for it at the top of her lungs. I waited for her to object, to get up. She didn’t.

Instead, she pressed her ass back towards me. I pressed the head of my cock against her puckered rim, shiny with my spit. Her breaths were fast and shallow. The first time I pushed forward, my cock just popped up and over, sliding between her buttocks. I wondered if this was going to work. When I tried again, I heard her control her breathing and exhale slowly as she pushed back against me.

The ring of muscle gripped my cockhead as I pushed my way in, both of us panting in the heat. “Oh God,” she moaned, her tone hard to read. Impatient I pushed in deeper, spreading her cheeks with my hands, enjoying the feel of her supple flesh, aroused by the sight as well as the feeling of my erection working its way into her back passage.

She gasped as I worked another inch in. It was easier now, and although I wanted to push in deeper, harder, and faster, I waited, allowing her to adjust. As she did, she brought her right hand to her pussy and began rubbing herself. “G-go ahead,” she told me, “I’m ready now.”

In one slow, inexorable thrust, I pushed my way into her ass until my balls pressed against her pussy. I could feel the motions of her hand as she rubbed and fingered herself. If I had thought her pussy was tight, it was nothing compared to the snugness of her ass. I paused, buried completely in her bowels, catching my breath. I knew it wasn’t true, but it felt as if she was so tight that I wouldn’t be able to pull back to thrust in again. Still, when I did withdraw, I could feel her enveloping every inch, as if holding me fast.

She moaned at the backwards motion and gasped again when I pushed in again, harder this time, faster. After a few strokes, she pushed her hips and ass back at me, meeting my thrusts with her own, contributing to the action. I could feel sweat trickling down my nose, and a drop landed on my cock as I plowed into her.

It wasn’t too long before I was sodomizing her as hard as I’d been fucking her pussy earlier. Her hand was rubbing furiously at her clit, and when the muscles in her shoulders started to dance, I knew she was close. I took hold of her ankles and yanked back, bringing her down off her knees and recreating her earlier, pinned-down position. I leaned forward and took hold of her wrists once more, the length of my body pressing down on hers.

I found her nape intoxicating, even as my cock plumbed the depths of her ass. I kissed it gently, then nipped it, prompting a gasp of pleasure. Fucking her hard, I whispered into her ear, “Cum for me, Moira. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

I kept up a constant stream of encouragement as I sodomized her. For her part, she answered me with moans and occasional, fragmented, “Oh God… I can’t believe… in my ass!... I’m going to… holy fucking shit!”

Once more, her asshole gripped me tight as she came, only this time it was my cock and not my finger. I fucked her through her orgasm, holding her small wrists in my hands as I pressed her whole body down into the towel with my thrusts. Soon my own orgasm was unspooling out of me, filling her bowels with jet after jet of hot cum. I shifted my grip to her hands, our fingers intertwined as I pounded my climax into her beautiful ass, gasping and panting as I did. My teeth pressed against her fragrant neck as we were united even more by the new warmth inside of her.

After a while, it was over. For a moment, I was worried that I wouldn’t know what to say. We were, after all, strangers. I felt her body shake underneath me, and it took me a while to realize she was laughing. In that instant, I saw the humor too. Here we were, two strangers, each on “our” private beach, me on top of her, my shrinking cock still buried in her ass, neither of us with any inkling that anything like this was going to happen when we sailed in that morning.

I laughed too as I rolled off her. Her asshole winked shut when I pulled out. My cock looked raw and well used. We each lay on our sides, facing one another. There was light in her grey eyes, and she looked impossibly beautiful, aglow with health and vitality, shining with sweat. “That’s not exactly what I thought the backup plan was going to be,” she told me, her voice gently teasing. “I thought maybe you would cum on me, or in my mouth.” Despite what we had just done, she looked a little shocked to be speaking so bluntly, but enjoying the freedom at the same time.

I shrugged, a little embarrassed.

“But it worked out, in the end,” she added, with a mischievous twinkle at her play on words. I snorted in amusement.

I opened the cooler, where there were two beers left from my original six pack, swimming in the ice water. “Beer?”

“Please,” she said, accepting hers. After a long swallow, she commented, “They can’t show what we just did in those ‘Corona on the beach’ ads, huh?”

“Not hardly,” I answered, clinking my bottle against hers.

It wound up being a great summer, even if my beach wasn’t private any more.

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