I find your site stimulating, and think it brings to light an area of our humanity and
sensuality that is too often ignored. To advance this cause, I'm sending along an account of an incident that I fondly recall as interesting and exciting. I'm a mature, heterosexual, married male, from the Midwest. It was late in life when I discovered nude beaches, but once I did discover them, I have taken every opportunity to spend some time on them, (which isn't often enough). When it can be arranged, I go there with my wife, who is gaining an enthusiasm for this activity, but I number of times I've gone alone.
I expect the main attraction for me in this regard, is the opportunity to observe nude women, in a beautiful, natural setting. Unlike anywhere else, it gives one a true view of the vast diversity of human bodies, with its wide range of age, shape, condition and size. Secondarily, I like the freedom of being nude in the sun, the wind and the water, and of course find stimulation in being exposed to others. (An exhibitionist tendency?) Ordinarily the majority of the nude sunbathers on the beaches are males, and I expect a good portion of them are gay. Often they are paired up, or in groups. I am sure that a good share of them are there on the lookout for sexual encounters, but for the most part, I have not observed much overt sexual activity. (An occasional erection, but for the most part, those have seemed 'inadvertent'.)
I guess what you do on a beach when you're by yourself is sit or lay in the sun, or walk up and down the beach, or some of each. On a particular beach I have frequented a number of times, I have noted a larger number of lone male bathers, widely scattered up and down this long, scenic beach. Not being well informed about this culture, but having a strong curiosity, a number of times I had approached such individuals, spoken casually with them, and wondered if they might further engage me in a discussion, or whatever. (Contrary to what one might conclude about a public, nude sunbather, I am introverted by nature, and conversations with strangers do not come easily to me.) Until the following situation occurred, nothing ever 'clicked.'
On this occasion, I noticed that several times as I passed by or near these men, they would reach for and fondle their genitals, ever so briefly. It dawned on me that this might be a signal, or an invitation.
Mustering up my courage, as I approached a fellow lying on his side on the sand, in a particularly isolated area of the beach, in response to his fondling, I reached down and fondled my balls and cock. He responded by again doing the same. I walked over and stood before him and made some small talk about the weather. During this time, we again each fondled ourselves. I asked if he minded if I sat for a while, and he invited me to do so.
He was obviously a veteran of many such days on the beach, as he had a deep over-all tan, with no tan lines. (Certainly I 'paled in comparison' in a couple of respects.) I'm sure he was younger than me, but was no Spring chicken; I'm guessing 40+. He was tall (or in any event long, as he was lying on his side), slender, and had receding blonde hair, and wore glasses. He was not strikingly handsome, but seemed pleasant enough looking, and seemed to be an intelligent sort.
There was no one else near by on the beach, and he lay on his left side, with his legs angled toward the ocean. I lay on my right side, with my feet pointed toward the ocean in the opposite direction. As we lay there, he began playing with his cock, and it started getting hard. I found this exciting, and started getting hard myself, so likewise, I began stroking myself. There was little conversation thereafter, just two adult male strangers, jacking off before one another, in a pristine setting. I may have said something about not being left handed, as my left hand was what I had to use to stroke myself, as I was propping myself up with my right arm.
His tan, hard cock was circumcised like mine, but his was longer, I'd guess over seven inches. His strokes were smooth and regular, not too swift, but as time passed they hastened. I was fully hard by that time, and was rapidly pumping my cock. It wasn't long before he urged forward, and shot a stream of white come onto the sand. Two, three spurts, and then a dribble. He lay back. I was ready. As I ejaculated, my body jerked, and my come spurted onto the sand. 'Feel better?' he inquired, to which I nodded with a grin. We wiped ourselves off with our towels. His long cock drooped, and mine receded as I stood. 'See you later,' I advised, as I began my walk back to the parking lot. When I looked back, he'd returned to the book he was reading when I first approached.
It had not been since my adolescence that I'd masturbated in the presence of another male; (I guess my wife may have been the only other person I'd masturbated in the presence of since that time.) Now I'd discovered the 'code'. I'd had an anonymous sexual encounter with a stranger of the same sex. No touching, no exchange of bodily fluids, no sweating out 'did I catch something', no worry about follow-up phone calls, just an interesting memory from the beach. I've not been back to put the 'code' to the test, nor am I sure I ever will. Nevertheless, I have an interesting memory and story.