The Beach At Night Part One: In The Dunes

When I was sixteen years old, Shane was my boyfriend. Our relationship started as a double date at the beach with my best friend Julie.

In some ways Shane was a good boyfriend because he was not demanding. If anything, he was too passive. I initiated almost everything in the relationship, from our first kiss standing in the water of the beach to late night calls when I rubbed my clit listening to his voice. He had a nice body, never said anything rude, was kind of smart, but in the end was pretty boring. 

His family was moving away soon, and we both knew that would be the end for us. Still, there were sexual things I wanted to try out, and Shane was more than willing to follow my lead. 

Near where I lived on the west coast of Florida is a stretch of a barrier island that is less developed. Sure, some luxury houses were set back behind the dunes, but most of the people who owned those houses only visited a few days a year. I knew of a tiny shelled area close to some of the nicest homes that couldn’t be seen from the road. My plan was to go there with Shane after dark. We would be breaking several laws: parking illegally, trespassing, being on the beach long after dark, and, if my plans were going to work out, public nudity and lewd behavior. 

Shane suggested that we eat dinner at a beach restaurant first. By the time we left, it was already dark. When we got out of his car, only the light from the moon guided us down a narrow footpath to the beach and the Gulf of Mexico.

The setting was unbelievably romantic. The waters were calm; small little wavelets rhythmically rolled on the sand. The clear sky had wispy clouds floating by. The temperature was warm with a slight breeze. We saw no one else, and only a few lights shined down from the mansions. We walked hand-in-hand at the waterline, letting the wavelets wet our toes.

I was wearing a white button-front shirt with no bra. Julie, who had tiny titties, told me that bras were about conformity and that women like us with smaller breasts don’t need them anyhow. I started not wearing bras everyday not because of her feminist politics but because I didn’t like the way they fit. I also liked the way my nipples felt when they rubbed against a shirt. If boys noticed my B-sized breasts, I was okay with that. I thought they were the best looking part of my body. I also wore a short skirt with a thong underneath that I bought especially for that evening.

After walking down the beach for about fifteen minutes, I looked away from the water and said, “This looks like a good place.” Shane was baffled. “Good for what?” he replied. I pulled out a light-weight beach blanket from my bag and said, “Let’s hang out near the dunes.” We walked the short distance from the water to where the dune vegetation started, and I spread out the blanket. No one would notice us here in the dark, even if some random rich person was still out walking the beach. I stretched out on the blanket, and patted the space next to me to get Shane to come down too. 

Once he sat down, I leaned over to him for a kiss. I held his head, starting with gentle kisses, then eased my tongue to meet his. When our kissing became more passionate, I placed my head down on the blanket, forcing him to lean down more, practically climbing on top of me to continue our make-out session. He unbuttoned the top button of my shirt, then the next, then the next. Moving his hand under my shirt, he fondled my breasts then circled my nipples with his fingers. Meanwhile I unbuttoned the rest, opening my shirt wide to show off my whole torso in the moonlight. With this, he placed his mouth over a nipple and started sucking. With one nipple sucked and the other pinched with his fingers, I was in erotic heaven. “Don’t stop!” I whimpered. It was as if there were a direct nerve ending from each nipple to my clit and vagina. He switched sides, and the nipple that he had just sucked was wet with his saliva as he twisted it between his fingers. It felt so damn good. 

After a long time, I said,“My turn on top.” Standing up as he laid down, I pulled down the zipper on my skirt and let it drop along with my unbuttoned cotton shirt. Only my thong stood between me and complete nudity. Shane still had all of his clothes on, and it was now my job to strip him. He also had a nice cotton button front shirt, and I repeated the process that he had started with me. When I reached the last button, I went directly to loosening his belt, pulling down his zipper, and then the bigger job of tugging off his pants and underwear.  

Now naked, Shane’s erection stood straight up. With my legs straddling his thighs, I grabbed his cock with both of my hands and fondled it gently. I didn’t want him to cum too soon, which with Shane almost always happened. Light, teasing touches only. My fingers lightly brushed his balls, then traced the vein on the front of his erect penis all the way to his cockhead, which I circled with my fingers. Repeating this pattern, I started with one finger, then two, then three, then the whole hand gripping more tightly. 

I shifted myself up a bit, so my thong-covered pussy was near the base of his dick. I was aroused enough so my pussy juices had soaked through. A little shift more, and I put my pussy on his shaft. Instinctively, I moved my hips up and back, rubbing my wet thong on the bottom two inches of his dick. Shane reached up to cup my breasts in both of his hands. That led me to arch my back, my hands reaching up, then behind my head as I rocked back and forth. I could feel my orgasm building. 

This was as close to real sex as I could have without penetration, but there was one step more. I reached down and pulled my thong to one side and moved down again to the base of his cock. More tentative now, I let my swollen labia cradle either side of his penis. I said, “Can you feel my wet pussy wrapped around your throbbing cock? There is NOTHING between us.” At that moment he had his orgasm. For a split second, I could feel the first spurt of semen surging down his penis vein right under my pussy. I popped up, his hands left my tits, and cum streamed everywhere. I was completely disoriented. 

In the moments of confusion that followed, it was clear that our sex play was finished. We cleaned up his cum and awkwardly put on our clothing. I folded up the towel, which now had cum in several places. My pussy ached from not having finished my orgasm. I was very close, seconds away, but his ejaculation ended my chance at getting off properly.  Frankly, Shane had never really given me a proper orgasm. All of the times that I climaxed with him were on the phone and due to my handiwork. I didn’t give him any clue, but I was getting more and more angry walking back to the car. Clearly he didn’t care about my sexual satisfaction. It didn’t help that he kept on talking about how awesome his orgasm was.