I sat back and wondered why I loved summer so much, as I gazed from my
banana chair perched on top of the first dune back from the water.
From there, I could see miles of white sand covered by just a couple of
feet of water in most places, with a few deeper holes, ideal for a dip.
Although this view is what I consider the most beautiful in the world,
I closed my eyes and had a huge range of visual and emotional memories
come flooding through my brain. I tried to remember my very first image
of the beach and summer.
I remembered when I must have been around four years old; playing in the
back yard of the house I grew up in, in the small country town where I
lived until I was ten. Summertime then meant an all-encompassing
warmth, the freedom to take your shirt off, playing down by the river,
setting up the kiddie pool and slippery dip in the back yard, staying
up late, parties with friends of the family, and some time in the big
city with a chance to go to the beach.
I enjoyed the pool in the back yard the most. How much more fun can you
get than that? The sun, the slippery dip, the splashing, and the wet
ground between your toes as you line up for another slide into the
pool. Little did I know that there would be greater pleasures in life,
not as simple or pure, but better just the same.
The river was a fantastic place too, swinging from the willow tree
branches that bent down into the water, riding around on inflated
tractor tubes, savouring hot chips that cost ten times less than they
do now, and imagining I could live in a shale cave behind the reeds
that lined the river. It was also a place to get away from the parents
to read girlie mags that some kid pinched from their dad, smoke
cigarettes (no health warnings in those days), and check out the older,
more developed girls. Those girls occasionally did a bit of flashing,
and our group took turns daring each other to kiss the girls that were
our own age.
When the family travelled eight hours to the city once a year to visit
our relatives, we would also visit the beach. The size of everything in
the city was such a contrast to our small country town, so were the big
bare breasts in abundance during summer at the pine tree lined beach.
So, from early on, I loved summer. There was just something special
about the freedom and adventure that wasn't there in winter, and that
internal glow that you only get from sunshine. Above all, I remember
the way females seemed to have extra hormones and a need to kiss,
flash, and bare more skin. No wonder there is more breeding in the
natural world in the warmer months.
When I was ten, I moved from our small country town to the place where I
still live today - a coastal area with an abundance of lakes and
beaches - about two hours from the city. This meant many summers of
surfing, snorkelling, skiing, sunshine, boobs and g-strings. All of
that added up to many summers of feeling fit, healthy - and horny.
Once I turned eighteen, and gained some independence, my favourite
pastime was making my way through the bushes near the beach via the not
too well worn tracks, where the sunlight only came through in very
narrow beams. From there, I could see the dunes that rolled up and down
the beach - just above the flat section that stretched right down to
the water - and the women who lay in the hollows of these dunes.
Once in position, I would just wait for movement in my own secret,
shaded world that was such a contrast to the sunlit beach and the noise
from the waves and people. I could see all the women - some alone, some
in groups of two or more. They couldn't see much of each other, but I
could see all of them.
When they first got to the beach, I imagined - as I looked at all those
lovely women - the thoughts going through their minds. I could imagine
them trying to pick out the right spot where no one could see them, but
they could have the freedom to expose themselves. I also thought, if
they really didn't want any one to see them, they simply would
not expose themselves at all. Therefore, there was something about
exposing themselves that appealed to them. They could have claimed they
didn't want tan lines, but unless they were having someone look at
their tits enough to care, why bother? In my mind, they were horny
girls who liked having their tits out - with the chance of someone
seeing them.
The moments surrounding when they first exposed their breasts were the
most exciting for them, I imagine. If they had heard, "what are you
doing", "hi there", or "nice tits" at that precise moment, they would
surely have had heart failure. I expected that they would secretly like
to be fully exposed and appreciated in every way, but would be
too timid to pursue such a fantasy.
This was as daring as those women would get, and although almost all of
them were great to look at, it was that boldness and the pushing it to
their limit that turned me on. It also compelled me to expose myself,
hence my board shorts pushed down my thighs with my dick out, as I
knelt in the cool sand. Although there was a chance that someone could
still see me from the dunes, there wasn't that much of a chance.
From behind, though, anyone from the houses could have easily seen me
if they had ventured too close.
I often wondered if any woman in the surrounding houses might have
spotted me one day and had a little play herself, watching me caress
myself to a fully aroused state. I never looked behind, so I never
would have known. I only looked at the valleys of the dunes in front of
me, laden with brown shiny flesh.
I watched as they turned from one position to another, their breasts
swaying in slow motion, like a wave ebbing out to sea. I drank in the
sight of their butts and hips, with ascetic curves like the dunes, and
the sheen on their sweaty, lotion covered bodies, like the ocean at
sunset.
I would work myself up as much as I could, and prolong it as much as
possible - sometimes it must have been hours. I watched pair of breasts
after pair of breasts, hot arse after hot arse and gorgeous woman after
gorgeous woman. I would be stimulated to such a point - with every vein
in my body bulging - that it would only take one of these intriguing
women to brush sand from her breasts before I would release a strangled
cum free into the air.
The most exciting one of those occasions was when I ventured to the
southern end of the beach one day. I had noticed a couple of women
going down there around some rocks about a week previous, and then not
appearing at the other side. I didn't think much of it at the time, but
on this day I saw one of the most gorgeous women I have ever seen -
with curves to die for - and she also disappeared behind the rock.
What was going on? I wondered.
I decided to venture over some rocks, around the secluded bay and behind
the rocks where she disappeared for a closer look. I couldn't see a
thing to indicate where she could have disappeared - no cave, and no
path other than the well-worn one around to the next beach.
Then I noticed slight signs of wear heading straight up the large rock
pillar.
Could she be up there? She had to be. I perused the landscape
and realised there was a ledge, above the platform on top of the
pillar. I walked up the beach to see if I could figure out how to get
to that ledge. When I looked back on the scene from further down the
beach, I could see that houses lined the top of the cliff.
The only access to that ledge was another five-minute walk further up
the beach, and then along the backyards up to the top of the cliff. My
heart was already beating fast with nervous adrenalin. Would something
ruin my plan of making it to the top of that cliff? Would I be
embarrassed walking through someone's back yard?
I couldn't let anything get in the way, there are just some things you
must do in life. I reasoned that if any one stopped me, I would
tell them I lived just a few of houses up and didn't think anyone would
mind me cutting through their back yards. I thought, Woo hoo, lets
go!. The adrenalin was making me feel so alive.
Cutting through the back yards was easy, not even close to a problem.
What I forgot to think about was how I could stand in someone's back
yard looking over a ledge. Each step that I took made my fear of
failure subside. I could see that there were hedges between the house I
was headed towards and the cliff. Luck was on my side - as it often was
when I had steely determination.
There I was in my own little sanctuary with a surrounding of hedges,
vine-covered lattice, flowers beds, and concrete seats situated in an
arc, as if waiting for an audience to watch the sea. The spot was
shaded and hidden from the outside world, and when I sat on a seat, the
concrete was nice and cool. I just hoped the owners wouldn't see me and
call the police.
From where I sat, the view was magnificent - miles of deep dark blue
water, capped by white where the waves broke on the beach and around
the sandstone all along the coastline. Below me was an even more
spectacular sight, a goddess laying east to west, waiting to be adored.
She was facing the water, which meant I could admire her with no chance
of her looking my way. What a sight she was, with her long, smooth,
brown legs that ended in a black g-string stretched around her glorious
curves. Her stomach was flat with no tone, and her sides pulled in to a
narrow waist, which accentuated her hips and her breasts even more. Her
breasts almost looked too full, covering almost every inch of her chest
and spilling over her sides and collarbones. I could tell by the way
her wide tits moved that they must have been heavy. To add even more to
the illusion, her nipples and the almost non-existent halos were the
smallest I had seen.
Not only was her body the best I had ever seen naked, the sight further
accented by a shiny anklet and leather wristbands, but she was also
beautiful. Her long wavy hair was as black as a raven, which just
seemed to fit so well with her coffee skin and g-string.
Then I realized, Wait a second, I know this woman.
When I was at school, she used to flirt with me and I used to flirt
right back.
Fuck, I was hard. My instincts told me to go down there, say nothing
and just fuck her until I couldn't fuck any more.
I needed to calm myself. What a waste if she rejected me, when I had
this sight to enjoy. I needed to get my cock out, right then and there.
I threw caution to the wind and took my pants completely off.
Fuck, I was alive.
I can't remember blinking as I stared at her; I didn't want to miss a
millisecond. I slowly massaged my balls and shook my cock all about.
With every slight movement of this gorgeous woman, I wanted to roll my
eyes back and cum - but I didn't want it to be over.
I didn't need any stimulation to be as hard as a rock and close to
cumming. I was actually fighting not to cum, so I could savour the
moment.
Then she rolled over, and halfway through her motion I hit the ground.
My cock was pressed hard into the grass, my heart pulsing so hard I
could almost hear the blood being pumped around my body. My breathing
was extremely heavy, moving the grass in front of my mouth.
I wondered if she had seen me, and whether I should have just stay
there, as it would be better to just be spotted than to be seen diving
away. After a few breathless moments, I slowly inched forward through
the grass, until I could see her.
The coast was clear, she was on her front but she wasn't looking my way.
She was reading - and what an advertisement for literature it was with
her perfect orbs behind the open book. I had a clear view of her taut
face in the new position, her full lips turned up into a slight smile
as those Cleopatra eyes gazed upon the pages of her book.
I must have looked crazy, with my arse and balls bared to anyone that
might walk behind me, and slowly humping the ground watching her. It
was almost painful not to sit up and stroke my cock until I came. I
couldn't, though, because she might see me, and then it would be all
over.
She lay there on her stomach reading, her breasts knocking into each
other as she turned each page. She had her legs spread open, with the
inside of her thighs forming an inviting arrow formation ending at her
pussy. Her arse was as round as her breasts, and accentuated by the
over-exaggerated dip in her lower back. She wasn't really toned
anywhere except for the two vertical muscles in her lower back and the
foot long section behind her knees, but I couldn't imagine any woman
better.
Then a strange thing happened. As I was humping up and down, she
started doing the same thing in unison. Was it some sort of mental
telepathy? Had I been focusing in on her so strongly that she had
picked up my thoughts? Had she picked up my pheromones wafting through
the air? The most logical answer was that she was reacting to the book
she was reading. What I would have given to read what was turning her
on.
I could imagine coming home from work, catching her dry humping, pulling
her g-string aside, and sliding my cock in to ride her movements while
she continued to read. I could also imagine her turning and smiling,
happy I had caught her in that horny mood. I love a woman who is
confident with her own sexuality.
I noticed her brushing her boobs, and thought at first she must have had
sand on them, but after the third time and very erect pair of nipples,
I knew that wasn't the case. She then lay the book over and slid both
arms down to her waist, slipping her thumbs under the g-strings'
waistband. Her breasts were squashed forward as she wriggled out of the
restraints of those little black straps of material.
Once again, I had to duck for cover as she rolled over. When I looked
again, she was squatting and looking tentatively in all directions.
Then, apparently satisfied, she slowly stood upright. She took one last
look left and right before she cupped her breast with her left hand,
while her right hand went to work on her pussy, causing her knees to
give way slightly.
Come on, this is too good to be true, I thought to myself. It was
very difficult to believe I was actually watching this improbable,
daring display. It only lasted thirty seconds at the most before she
lay back down, and there weren't that many people on the beach that
day, but still...
I was in true shock as I straddled the concrete chair, the rough texture
on my balls adding to the copious amount of physical and mental
stimulation that was making my head spin. I stroked my cock from tip to
base in time with her strokes up and down the length of her pussy. As
she got faster, so did I. I had never seen the head of my cock so
engorged.
I had to shift my hand down my shaft to stop myself from cumming, and as
I did, she changed her hand movements to a sideways motion across her
clit. My fist was banging into my balls and my cock had a rigid sway as
my hand was pumping furiously at the bottom half of the shaft. The
sight of her breasts in a wild fight to keep stable, her hand like a
blur, the small heavy droplets sent into the air, and the glistening
wetness on her thighs sent me over the edge.
Fuck this, I thought, I have to cum! My focus changed from
just her to the fact that I was outside naked and surrounded by
openness, as I stared straight up into the big blue sky. Then my fist
hit hard into my balls and pleasure filled me up, sending me to dream
land. I groaned, not caring about making a huge noise at that stage - I
was gone.
I could hear moaning mixing with my groaning. I had to force my head
back down, because I wanted to see her as well as hear her. Her back
was arched, her legs shaking - and she was looking straight at me with
a look like she was almost going to cry. She was staring at my cock,
and I knew why once I joined her in viewing it. I was spewing heavy,
thick white cum, some spurting, but most of it just running down to
coat my cock and hand.
She screamed again, her fingers pinching her nipples, and her face
contorted as she looked straight into my eyes, with a tear slowly
escaping hers. She just lay there shaking and staring, with a steady
stream of saltwater making its way down her cheek.
I stood and cupped my balls, and two or three hefty strokes later I
roared. Shot after shot left my body, leaping great lengths, draining
me each time to the core. I wanted to collapse to my knees. I swear my
nerves were just about to have a melt down.
I looked down again and she was smiling. You just don't get any better
than that. I don't know how long we just smiled at each other, but it
seemed like time stood still. It was as if we were in another time and
place, where raw human emotion and basic instincts overrule social dos
and don'ts - and what a surreal experience it was.
Warmth, freedom, adventure, and human desire... I love summer.