Seashore Double Wank

Sex is a funny thing isn’t it.  I started reading the recollections of women and their masturbation experiences on ‘Solo Touch’ in order to have a pleasant little late-night wank of my own, and ended up reading the male-male stories quite a bit.  Lads’ first times on their own or with friends; older boys enjoying having a wank buddy.  I’m neither young nor old, rather I’m middle aged, if that, wife and two kids.  Plenty of sex with her – well mostly.  You rather feel you have to be quiet when teenage children are around.  You can’t be like you were newly-wed going at it like rabbits.  Just the same on holiday you can’t be like you were, and moreover, as when my story takes place, on holiday abroad not just with your own but another pair of kids in tow as well.

We had taken a villa down in the Med.  A quieter area of the coast.  Good beaches, good scenery and no noisy nightlife.   Would have been good to have taken an early morning dip in the villa’s pool and perhaps have a wank out there in the early morning sun – if the children did not get up so early.  I took to taking an early morning walk away from the villa to enjoy the solitude and think.  Maybe even settle quietly somewhere in the sunshine, a bit off track, and have a wank, maybe even do that naked – completely naked.  Think about stories I had read.  Some about men and women, boys and girls – others about just the men or younger men.

One morning I drove down to the sea.  My objective a little cove we, my wife and the children, had swum and played in the day before.  We had been there all day alone.  I rather fancied being really alone – without the wife and all those kids.  I fancied being naked on that beach, swimming naked and very likely enjoying a bit of ‘solo touch’, so to speak.  The cover was empty.  No other car parked nearby on the dirt track.  Just like the day before, only just me there.  Naked in seconds.  I even left my clothes in the hired car.  More sexual to clamber down to the beach stark bollock naked.  That wonderful feeling of freedom.   You know – penis and balls swinging.  I even half erected in my excitement.  I have explained I am middle-aged and erections do still come easily to me.

A saunter along the beach and then into the blue, sun kissed water.  Warm, clear and simply delightful.  The quiet perfection of a lazy swim with the waves just lapping the sand and rocks, no real swell.  Me, the water and almost silence.  Wonderful to be naked.

I had not expected another swimmer.  Had not expected to see another figure coming down onto the beach.  A man dressed in khaki shorts, green shirt, sandals and Panama hat.  You can imagine my sudden concern.  Nudity not exactly popular in the locality and me a long way from my clothes back in the car.  Of course, whilst swimming I was decently covered.  It would be when I got out that all would be on show.  All!  He certainly saw me, even waved before, to my surprise, divesting himself of his clothes and walking, just like me, stark naked down to the water.  You can imagine my relief.  A fellow skinny dipper!

I think we said something like ‘good morning’ as we passed each other swimming.  I had thought to quietly exit the water a little later and return to my car, ideas of a solo wank abandoned, but he rather beat me to the beach, climbing from the water and standing there dripping, waiting for me as I swam to the shore.  I have to say it all felt like something from ‘Solo Touch’, being greeted and exchanging pleasantries, whilst completely naked, with another naked man.  David was about sixty, an ex-pat living nearby with his wife and he came to the beach quite a few mornings for a swim.  It was pleasant to chat.  A little strange being both naked.  I noted his all over tan and asked if he was a naturist.  He said, ‘not as such’ and explained whilst his wife liked to sunbathe naked on their villa roof, she would not dream of being naked elsewhere outside, not even on a deserted beach like this.  So, he was somewhat the same – not really a naturist.  Nobody was ever on this beach, at least in the early morning, so pointless wearing a swimming costume.  So, with his roof and visits to the beach the tan had become entire. 

And he asked about me.  The very clear demarcation on my body between what was normally covered and what was not, so gave the game away.  It was obvious I was not a nudist.  It was as if I had on a pair of very pale shorts – if not for the obvious exposed genitalia.   Leaving my clothes in the car added to the clear indication I was getting some pleasure out of being, unusually, without clothing.  I had not just stripped upon the beach for a swim like David, I had come down to it naked.

“I just thought I would.  Merely a nice idea.  Naked and free.  I suppose a bit of the naturist idea.  I did like just walking from the car unencumbered.”  I explained how I could not do that back at the villa with the kids and all.

“One day, when the kids are off your hands.  You’ll be able to be free together.  I have to say one of my favourite things is coming up onto our roof and seeing my wife naked and…” he paused, “receptive.”  He looked to see if I got his drift.  “If she’s interested, she opens her legs.  I find that walk across the roof staring at her revealed pussy – she’s rather hairy there, and I can see she’s wet – with my cock going upwards out in the sunshine, all on its own, is quite something.  Almost better than the sex which follows!”

It was a rather unexpected revelation.  Not usual in my experience for men to talk quite so graphically about sex or their wives.  I now knew she had a hairy pussy.  That was not information one usually learnt so quickly – actually at all – from strangers.  What to say in reply?

“That does sound, yes, rather good.  Yes, I could imagine that.  The kids not there, Eugene on a lounger and opening her legs in a come-hither way.  Yeah, I’d certainly like that, those red curls and lips parting.  I’d be like you…”  I felt it appropriate, given David’s confidences, to exchange information about my wife’s pubic hair!

The trouble was David, actually, was getting like ‘that.’  I’d noted a rather small, stubby penis, really all wrinkled foreskin – not that I’d liked to stare.  Quite a contrast with my rather long flaccid cock which must have been swinging away as I left the water, swinging from thigh to thigh.  I had been too conscious of this stranger standing there to notice what I was doing.

I did not like to stare but the man was getting hard in front of me.

“A redhead,” he said, “lucky you – I’ve always liked red hair.   Audrey is brunette.  I’m sure your wife looks stunning.  But rude to lust after another man’s wife even if titian!”

His cock was rising up, and it was now not a little thing at all; instead, with a final peeling back of the foreskin, he stood there with it curving up in front of him, its purple edged lilac bulb very much that ‘coal-scuttle helmet’ look.  I pulled my eyes back up to his face.  It is rude to stare but I had been rather taken aback with what I was seeing.  Intrigued too.  It is not every day you see somebody else’s cock firming up.  This was becoming so like something I might read on ‘SoloTouch’.  The more so because I was reacting too.  I like to think it was the thought of approaching naked Eugene at the villa or the thought of David’s wife opening her legs in invitation, all that dark hair, but I think it was really the sight of David’s expanding, curved and upright penis.

All at once we were standing naked, ankle deep in the sand, not just naked but both sporting our manhood – really up.  Men in a ‘SoloTouch’ way.  Should we just ignore the erections, perhaps me make my farewell and walk up to my car – hard?

David smiled, looking right down at my cock, and I found my eyes drawn down to them as well.  His was curved, but mine as straight as a die, his knob had something of the streamlined, fast car look with that stretched back coronal ridge; mine simply the pale pink ‘policeman’s helmet’ or the finial on a bedpost – the same curved acorn shape pretty much all around it, rather more prominent than the shaft.  Both respectively sized, yes, two good cocks.  And then he said, which more than surprised me, “Did you come here for a wank as well?”

Perceptive, but what a question; ameliorated somewhat by the addition, “I normally do.”

“Oh!”  This was becoming very ‘SoloTouch.’  I was thrown.

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say these things happen or men will be men.  “Shall we?  It’ll be nice having company for a change.  I normally sit over there.”

I was in a bit of a daze.  This was all a bit sudden.  I’d come out that morning to have a bit of stretching of legs, a swim and, yes, a bit of a stretching of my willie and emptying of balls.  But on my own.  Not with someone else.  Not social masturbation.  I hadn’t done anything like this with anyone other than Eugene since I met her all those years ago. But I did start to walk towards the rock.

Walking towards Eugene’s open legs would have been exciting there on the beach but, actually, there was something in walking a little way across the sand to David’s rock not just erect but in the company of another erect man.   I would probably have walked the length of the beach erect if on my own, just for the sake of it.  That, I admit, had been in my mind on the drive there.  Probably then swum back and, on the beach, let my thoughts and hand erect me all over again, and then cumming.  Very likely sitting on the very rock David had indicated.  But this was excitedly different.  Walking and talking with someone else and with twin erections.

A sensibly flat and comfortable rock to sit upon, indeed the very one Eugene and I had set our picnic out so carefully the day before.  A little shocking really, both that, and to see David reach down and begin moving his foreskin and feeling I should do the same.

“I’ve not done this before,” he said, “not with another man.  Plenty enough times here on my own but not sharing the experience.”

“Me neither.”

We wanked in silence, our hands moving up and down.  An awkward silence perhaps.  Both doing something not exactly new but not alone.  Each watching the other.

“What do you like to imagine?”

It was an invitation to share some of my most private thoughts.  What would I have thought about if alone?  My tastes, I think, are fairly vanilla, nothing too kinky.   I don’t imagine abducting beautiful Nubians away to enjoy, or tying Nordic blonds spread-eagled to beds.   I do, though, work with a lot of Indian men and woman and have a bit of a thing for pretty Indian girls in saris.  So I talked about them.  The rustle of silk, the eroticism of the partially exposed midriffs.  Two beautiful dark-haired girls vying to suck my cock – as was a favourite thought of mine – and I knew which two.

David for his part talked of watching a young couple upon the beach – that beach – just him and they.  Totally imagined – not a real experience.  Him sitting and watching them swim and so on, enjoying the sight of the girl in her bikini.  But then them asking if he would mind or be offended if they made love there on the beach.  Not tucking themselves away the other end of the beach but doing it right in front of him.  Kissing and fondling, boobs released, bikini pulled down and then cock released.  Everything on show; watching them suck each other and then, just as the girl opened her legs wide in invitation to the boy, her sex so open, her lips looking so moist and inviting, and with the boy standing with his erection sticking out ready to go in, the girl turning and looking at David and asking if he’d like to get his own cock out of his tented shorts.

Good thoughts.  The images easily conjured up in my mind.  A pleasing wanking scenario.

“I like your two Indian girls,” he said.   “Good to watch those saris come off on the beach or more likely nicely patterned cotton bikinis.  Do you think one might suck me whilst the other sucked you?  Could you spare one, pleasing as the idea is to have two girls licking at the same time.”

It was great.  A most enjoyable way to while away an early morning, before returning to the bosom of my family and a, no doubt, enjoyable day, sitting there sharing erotic thoughts and wanking to them.  David commented on my flowing pre-cum, dripping to the sand and that got us talking about penises, masturbation and cumming.  He asked if I simply flowed or spurted and he bemoaned how as a teenager he sometimes shot right up onto his face when he came, whereas now he just dribbled cum.  And that led to a discussion on what women thought of cum.  Whether they really liked it and were turned on by ejaculation and cum, or simply saw it as an inevitable messy conclusion to sex.

A fascinating conversation, or at least I thought so.  So engrossing and enjoyable as I wanked myself, speeding up and slowing down or stopping as necessary.  It was not a short wank but a lengthy and detailed conversation made the pleasanter by manual stimulation of our sexual organs!  I have to say, to reveal, that I did like his cock and how it curved.  A fine organ.

David expressed a need to cum and our conversation returned to my Indian girls.  I talked him all the way through to cumming; talked of them undoing patterned cotton bikini tops, of them kneeling in front of us on the sand, pulling their long glossy black hair back over their shoulders and then bending their heads to first show us their tongues as they tickled and licked our knobs and then taking hold and slipping lips over and sucking as they wanked us into their mouths with delicate, feminine fingers.

I watched David come as I talked.  Rather different seeing another man come; different from seeing your own – though very often your eyes shut at that point!  He did spurt, it did not just dribble out.  Not very far, but it did not simply run but flew a little distance down onto the hot sand.  And quite a few spurts at that.  Long streaks upon the sand.

It was then my turn.  My turn to make myself come in front of another man.

“Well done,” I said.  Well, what do you say!  “Might your couple suck me whilst they fuck.  I presume you imagine she does that to you?”

David talked of how he imagined their copulation would be in front of him on the beach.  She on all fours and with the young man connected; she moving so she faced David and then mouthing him – or me.  “Imagine,” he said, “her lovely lips all around your cock, her tongue tickling, all so wet and hot, and you doing nothing, she too doing little but suck and lick, the movement up and down your cock all from the young man’s enthusiastic thrusting behind her.  I like to imagine his semen spurting just as my own spurts into her mouth. Cumming at her from both directions!  Yes, your cum, her mouth!  He’s cumming now, he is thrusting hard at her bottom, lovely slapping squelching sounds and…”  David paused, he had just watched me cum pretty well at the suggestion of spurting into her mouth.  The several shining wet spots upon the sand testified to my pleasure.  “Yeah, that was a good cum,” he said nodding his head.  “I did enjoy that.”

We stood; there beneath us, near our bare feet and upon the sand, the evidence of our wanking.  His cock now shrinking back in its wrinkled flaccid state, mine still partially erect, dripping.

“Another dip in the sea?”

We shook hands, naked and wet from the sea, before we parted, me heading for the car, my clothes and a day with wife and the children.  We had enjoyed our shared wank.

“Might you come here again?”

A double entendre!  I smiled.  David knew my holiday was not yet over.

He added, “I’m here most mornings.  I’d like to do that again.”

“So would I,” I replied.  “I enjoyed that.  Tomorrow, probably.”

I had been ‘SoloTouched’ and had liked it.