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Nude Beach Encounter

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 30 Dec 2001 1 comments
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by Stuart Dixon I know a lot of the stories here are made up, even though the club rules say you are supposed to label your fantasies as fiction. This one isn't fantasy. In 1977 I was on the rebound from a six-month affair with a brainy (magna cum laud, Bryn Mawr; MS from MIT) and horny medical student with great tits and short legs. It's hard to let go of the rewards you got from someone who described you as a hunk, whose body vibrated to your touch, and who has since told you her current lover doesn't have your 'beautiful penis.' I dived back into Sierra Club events, relying on my observation that the best way to meet people to have good times with is to do the things you like to do with other people who enjoy the same things. I was horny as hell. I admit I was probably thinking about a previous trip to San Onofre State Beach (I'll write about that one, one day.) when I decided to leave early on a warm winter day for a desert hike on Saturday, and spend Friday at the south end of the park, just before Camp Pendleton starts. That's where sun worshippers had agreed that bathing suits are unnecessary. It was just cool and windy enough to keep casual oglers away, and I had the whole beach to myself - miles of sand beneath sandstone bluffs split with occasional gullies. I spread my towel on the warm sand and stripped naked. After liberal application of sunscreen, paying special attention to those parts that seldom see the sun, I lay down on my back and fell asleep. When I awoke, there was another sunbather. He was as naked as I was, and looked about my age or younger, with a medium build and a neatly trimmed goatee that immediately had me thinking, in my stereotyping, that he was gay. Of course I checked out his dick and balls, which seemed to be a package similar to mine. We greeted each other casually, and commented on the weather's dampening effect on beach attendance. I admitted that it was windier than I liked, and he remarked that the wind was less strong in the arroyo behind us. He suggested we go back there and see if it was warmer. I was not all that experienced, but I thought I recognized a veiled proposition in the invitation. I surreptitiously checked out his state of arrousal, and saw that our now semi-limp cocks had grown about equally in length and girth. His balls hung lower than mine. I checked out the rippling of his glutes as he led the way back into the gully. The wind did lessen depending on where you stood, and we found a sandstone ledge in a quieter corner and sat down next to each other. As we sat there, he reached down and gave his partial erection a squeeze and a pull, and my soldier obediently stood up and asked for attention. He got it. There is something especially erotic about a penis that rises to full erection on its own, and mine was doing its best to give a good show, rising in a graceful curve up and to the left, my balls tight against the shaft, the skin with that slightly fuzzy pink cast that gets rubbed off the second you touch it. And touch it he did. He got up and came over in front of me. He crouched down and looked at my cock, stiff and waving in the breeze. "Beautiful," he said. Then he gently squeezed my balls and lowered his head. I watched his lips slip over the swollen head of my cock, and felt the warmth of his mouth enclose it, slipping down the shaft and back up again. As he sucked on my rigid rod, he played with his own boner between his legs, and I watched him stroking the hard shaft, impatient to replace his hand with mine, or better yet, my mouth. I reached down awkwardly and wrapped my hand around the warm hardness of his cock shaft, and slowly squeezed and rubbed it. It felt great to have an eager, stiff prick in my hand, but this was about all we could do on that ledge. He suggested between sucks on my fiery cock that we retire to a towel on the beach, and continue our explorations in a horizontal position, to which I readily agreed. He lay on his side and I did the same, and I had my first experience playing with another man's cock in the open air. I wanted to do everything. I examined his hardon in minute detail as I caressed it, noting every vein and artery, running a finger along the ridge of the crest of his cockhead, spreading the bulges on either side of his cumhole and peering into the gaping opening. I pulled on his ball sack, loving the way his stones hung low and loose, swaying them back and forth, fascinated by the incredible softness of his sac. Of course I licked the roundness of his cockhead, and fitted my lips around it, savoring the feeling as I molded my tongue to the plum shape of it as it slipped down into my mouth. He slowly drew it out and thrust it back in. All this time I was also feeling the sensation of his hot mouth and clever hands on my own sensitive swollen sex shaft. We did that for awhile, and then he rolled me over on my stomach, asking if I wanted him to fuck me. I didn't really find the prospect of mixing shit and sex appealing, so I declined. He compromised by raising my butt up and slipping his hard shaft between my thighs, running it in and out for a few strokes. Then I took the initiative. I was getting close to coming, and I wanted to try a little cock-to-cock jackoff. I placed myself with one leg over his thigh and the other under his other, and grabbed the two engorged members in my hands. What a sensation! Two hard cocks in my hands, a hard cock rubbing against mine, and a hot hand on my hard tingling cock! Somewhere in there, a helicopter from Camp Pendleton flew over the bluffs, and I was momentarily worried that they might see us and do something. The guy said not to give it a thought, and of course he was right. I wonder if any of those Marines saw us and got a hardon! We took turns jacking our two cocks, rubbing them against each other, and I was getting close to cumming. At last I could not hold back, I squeezed and rubbed my cock into overload, and my prostate spasmed, sending a sticky stream of cum up and onto his chest, then another and another. I pumped out six or seven spurts of the thick white stuff, and about the third, he began to add to the puddle of cock cream that was forming in his belly button, shooting strong ropes of milky white jism. I would like to say that I sucked it up and swallowed it all, and licked up the remainder, but I didn't. We joined each other in the cold winter surf to wash it off. I would also like to say that we relaxed and rested and then did it all again, but we didn't. To this day I kick myself for that oversight.