A Blind Date

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“Well, she said,” Maybe we can go shopping this weekend. That always cheers us up.”

“Uh noooo,” I said I can’t.

“Why not?”

“I am seeing someone on Saturday,” I said wincing.

“Really? Do I know him?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s, uh, Ron.”

There was silence, then she grinned like she had just learned great gossip. It was obvious she interpreted the next “date” as my interest in him. If she had only known the truth, I thought.

“It’s not what you think,” I started.

“No need to say a thing,” she said and grinned.

It was hopeless. I’d let her think what she wanted.

I focused on work the rest of the week and tried not to allow myself to contemplate what was coming, but at five pm on Friday my direct office line rang. I picked it up and I recognized Ron’s voice on the other end.

“How’s my future beach bunny doing?” he asked.

“Please don’t call me that,” I said.

He chuckled.

“Listen I will pick you up at ten tomorrow. You might want to wear a little cover up. We won’t be undressing until we get to the entry way to the beach.”

“Okay,” I said numbly.

It was suddenly hitting me. I was going to go through with this. Saturday had come too quickly. The next morning I woke up at six. I took a shower and for reasons I could not explain, I razored my bikini area, before I realized it really didn’t matter since there wouldn’t be any bikini bottom to protect my modesty. When I was finished, I stepped out of the tub and saw myself in the mirror. It was obvious this was going to be fair game for anyone looking pretty soon. I saw my breasts, now striking me as way too big for my frame, and the dark little Mohawk of hair ended just above my lips. If I stood perfectly you could not tell that I groomed them bare. If I didn’t...

“Well,” I thought, “I will have to be really careful.”

I looked at my trimmed landing strip above the shaved area again. I couldn’t help but remember his question about me being a real blonde. For some reason, that was one of the things that bothered me the most. It was pretty far from blonde down there and the idea that this guy would soon know that was almost like a terrible concession.

I walked into the bedroom and realized that I had no idea what to put on. I was going to a nude beach, yes, but I still I needed something to wear on the way. Feeling ridiculous, I grabbed a bikini and slipped it on. Then I went to the closet and pulled out a warm up suit that I usually wore to the gym.

Ron was nothing if not punctual. At ten on the nose I heard the now familiar growl of the Corvette as he pulled up in front of my townhome. With a sense of icy dread I waited for the knock at the door. It came and I opened it and saw him wearing a Hawaiian flower print shirt and a pair of cargo shorts that looked like they had been made of linen; an exorbitant display of wealth in such a casual way. From a fashion standpoint, it just didn’t work at all. He looked like a very wealthy beachcomber.

His attitude was still the same though. He looked me up and down even more blatantly than he had on our “date”.

I just sighed.

“Are you ready for our day at the beach?” he asked. He looked almost beside himself with glee.

“I said I would go,” I answered.

“Well, then let’s not waste a second.”

The beach was thirty minutes away. It was a blazingly hot Florida Saturday and even with the car top down at high speed the full effect of summer was undeniable.

“At least the sun will make my hair a little blonder,” I thought.

Then it hit me again, what was on my head wasn’t all that would be getting sun. I can’t remember exactly what we talked about as we drove. Mostly Ron chattered about how much fun he’d had on our date and how he admired my spirit in making good on the bet. I could sense a slight attempt to goad me with his congratulations, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm, at least not yet.

We eventually pulled off at the exit to Brover’s Beach and as we approached the parking area, I realized that the beachfront itself was obscured from the main thoroughfare and parking lot by a series of high dunes.

“Thank God for that,” I thought.

Then I saw how many cars were in the lot and my heart sank. The beach had to be crowded. We hunted around for a spot, then finding one, parked and got out of the car. At the edge of the asphalt an unassuming little wooden walkway led up and over the dune. Above it was a simple sign welcoming us to Brover’s. We walked over and crossed over on dune into a small valley. I still couldn’t see the beach. I had just taken another step when I realized Ron had stopped. I looked at him. He was pointing at another sign.

It read, “Nude sunbathers may be encountered beyond this point.”

“Here is where we change,” he said grinning.

I felt a slight, almost neurotic bristling at his enthusiasm, but I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me react. I walked back over and kicked off my sandals. He was already unbuttoning his shirt. As I set down my beach bag, I saw him becoming ever more naked very quickly. Suddenly a lot of physical detail seemed right there in my face. He was olive-complected and had obviously been tanning well before that day. As he slipped off his shirt I also saw how extensively hairy he really was. It covered his shoulders and a fair amount of his back. I was actually kind of shocked. If he had reminded me of a Hobbit before, he really reminded me of an Albanian satyr now. Then he pulled off his shorts.

As I described earlier, he was not a fantastic physical specimen. He was short, hairy, had a sort of thick body and a bit of a belly. As he stepped out of his shorts, however, three things shocked me. First, he had not worn any underwear, second, he had not a hint of a tanline anywhere and third, he had the largest penis I had ever seen. I was really shocked. It was immense, hanging soft like an elephant’s trunk, with a large knob of a head. And as he moved, it swung like an anatomical pendulum.

Now I wasn’t just repelled by the guy and his attitude, I was also shocked and alarmed at the freakish thing between his legs. Even worse, I realized I was going to have to walk out there on the beach with him like a companion. I just knew anyone that saw us together...naked...would be thinking, well, all kinds of things that were extremely far from the truth. He looked up after he had gone completely natural and held out his arms.

“What are you waiting on?” he said, laughing at my stunned expression.

I was speechless for a second and what he did next almost made me take off running for the parking lot. With his arms out and grinning broadly, he swiveled his hips. It made his huge organ swing and flop back and forth obscenely.

“Shocking isn’t it?” he laughed at me again. “I guess things average out. I may not be handsome and smooth, but I am rich and hung!” Then a second later he added “Now your turn!”

I realized I had blown my golden opportunity to get undressed without him watching. Had I done it while he was doing the same, that private act would not be another familiarity, but I hadn’t. With shaking hands, I unzipped my top and slipped it off.

“You wore a bikini? How adorable,” he said. “That is so traditional.”

I pulled the bottoms off and stood there for a second. Then knowing there was no way out I unfastened my top and slipped it off. My breasts are pretty, too big as I said, but they are pretty. They also have a slight natural sag due to their weight, and aside from being so perfectly shaped they actually look quite real. The areola is a light pink and of medium size and the nipples are pale and thick. As I stood there they reacted, hardening in the sudden breeze.

“Holy shit,” said Ron appreciatively. “Palominos!”

It was the first time I had heard that term. I blushed, even as the worst was yet to come. I reached down and grasped the waistband of my bottoms.

“Want a drum roll?” mocked Ron.

I didn’t say anything, just pulled them downward as I bent over and then stepped out. The motion was slight, but the same breeze made me painfully aware that I had flashed ever so briefly my shaved lips. When I stood up straight, I was facing him, with my “true colors” displayed on my mound.

He laughed triumphantly.

“Oh man, now that is a delicious dark secret you have there,” he said.

I couldn’t be sure, but his penis seemed to thicken and lengthen a bit. Then he walked over and slipped an arm around my waist. When he spoke again, it was almost like he was commiserating even though he was the cause of my misery.

“Now, now,” he said. “Let’s just walk out there like it’s no big deal. Just a nice, respectable couple out for a day of fun in the sun.”

“A couple.”

That was exactly what I was afraid people would think when they saw us together. I took a deep breath, and feeling no better, resumed walking with him up to the top of the next dune. He maintained his intimate hold around my waist as we cleared it and in retrospect I think I know why. As I first saw the mass of people out there, I almost balked. It looked like half of Florida was out there, lying on towels and completely nude, at least the male half. I looked around. Only a very few women were there among the guys.

It was obvious. I had been so set up. I realized as instantly, a million eyes looked at us walking toward them. Ron, hairy and massively hung and his “date” with her big boobs and two tone hair-dos were on display. I wanted to die.

He walked us to the edge of the group and set out the towels for the both of us to lie down. I immediately got down on my stomach and face out of long view, and made sure I had my legs close together. In spite of my efforts and denial, I could see a bunch of men with their heads turned my way. It was so violating. Ron on the other hand, seemed to relish the attention. He took his time stretching out and he lay on his side facing me as he fished in our beach bags for suntan oil, a different pair of sunglasses, and a bottle of water. I glanced over and saw how his cock was hanging down, touching the sand. It looked almost non- human.

A second later I felt his hands, slick with oil rubbing my back.

“What are you doing?” I asked in outrage.

“Making sure that hot bod doesn’t get a horrible burn, Honey,” he said as his hands moved downward and kneaded my buttocks.

I was speechless as he worked the pliant flesh and for a second parted them revealing... I didn’t want to even think about what he might have just glimpsed. He worked lower and applied more oil to the backs of my thighs and then to my calves.

“Okay roll over,” he said.

I looked at him like he was insane.

“You can’t just sun one side.”

The sheer boldness, the assumption, sort of took me by storm. Numbly, I turned over. I also felt like every man out there was looking. Ron didn’t say a thing. He just oiled his hands and started in at my collar bone, then began a squeezing application to my breasts. In spite of my disgust for him, my nipples reacted, hardening even more.

“Somebody likes that,” he chuckled.

I was mortified and offended, but before I could reply, he had picked up the bottle and started dribbling oil onto my bush. It gleaned dark and shiny in the sun as he started rubbing the oil in on my tummy, then he reached down to my mons where he gave my little rectangle of hair a sort of swipe with his hand and allowed an inappropriate thumb to dip inward for just a fraction of a second before moving on to coat my thighs and legs. It happened so fast I did not have time to react verbally. My body, however, betrayed me. His thumb had hit my REAL anatomical button and I blushed at the reaction. I decided right then to make sure I kept my legs together. I did NOT want him to know how it was affecting me.

As soon as he was done, I flipped back over onto my stomach again to salvage some of my shredded dignity. Mercifully he stretched out on his stomach and took a deep breath.

Then he said it.

“Hey babe, how about you oil my back?”

I looked at him. He was doing that on purpose. He wanted us to look like we were involved. I was so offended, but at the same time his audacity, and the embarrassment was very sexually powerful. I put it out of my mind, though, and committed to not betraying how much he was getting my goat, I acted like I wasn’t that offended. I got up on my knees and poured some oil on my hands. Then I started working it into his furry shoulders and back.

“Make sure you get my buns and legs,” he said grinning.

I hated his attitude and at the same time...

I didn’t show a thing, however, as I worked the lotion into his buns and down his legs. I had just finished when he did what I should have expected. He rolled over. Apparently he really was enjoying it, because his cock was huge and semi-erect. It flopped off to the side like a sea cucumber or some alien being attached to a man’s torso by a stalk. I carefully oiled up my hands making sure that if he moved and it flopped back toward me it wouldn’t make contact. As I began working on his chest, he shifted his hips. The monster did exactly as I feared. It lolled around and swung toward my thigh. I moved like it was a cobra intent on getting me and it missed touching my thigh by an inch. I smiled at my small triumph and continued working downward intentionally keeping my hands away from his penis. Due to the position, I had to lean over him, however. I glanced and saw that he was looking at my hanging breasts with utter delight.

“Man, they move like the real thing,” he said impressed. “You shake a little and they sway just perfectly. In fact, why don’t you give them a little shake for me, Honeypot.”

“You are incorrigible,” I said.

“He really was like dealing with some hyper-sexualized mental infant or maybe a horny troll,” I thought.

I was down to his abdomen and distracted by our argument, and so I did not notice as he intentionally shifted his hips again causing his dick to swing over like a ship’s boom. It landed on my hands startling me and I jerked backward giving him the jiggle and bounce he had wanted. He laughed and clapped his hands.

“Oh man, that was too good,” he exulted. “Those babies really knock hard and heavy don’t that?”

I couldn’t even reply, but my nipples crinkled up saying more than words. I blushed.

I was about to lay back down when he looked over at the men that were watching us. I hadn’t missed the fact that some were actually sporting erections, but I hadn’t given any indication that I saw. It was already too humiliating. Ron knew I had seen them though.

“Hmmm,” he said seeming to reconsider his treatment of me. “This really is tough for you isn’t it?”

He sounded almost, regretful.

“Yes!” I said as though it was so outrageous to have to even answer.

“Okayyyyyy. You’ve been a really good sport. I tell you what. I’ll make another bet with you. If I lose we will go right now and I’ll never say a word about any of this...”

“It’s a deal!” I said too quickly.

“Okay but if I win, you have to suck my big dick right out here on the beach.”

I looked at him shocked. I had already agreed. I couldn’t even retract my agreement.

“Okay, so here’s the bet,” he said too quickly. “I bet... that you... are actually wet.”

And then he reached down and ran an indicting finger along my shaved lips. I still don’t know why he was right. My body had reacted to language, behavior, requirement, and a man that my brain rejected on almost every level. I felt completely in shock, and mortified, but when he held his finger up there was no denying the result. I think I looked at him like I wanted to crawl under the sand and tunnel home. As he saw my expression, his penis seemed to lengthen even more. It was so massive already and it now looked like it should have been attached to a man three times his size. Ron smiled and reclined on the towel. I stared at his cock.

“Well, you know it’s not going to reach over there and bite you,” he said. ‘Then again maybe it will if you don’t make really good friends with it right now, Jana.”

I was stunned. I had been tricked and my own body had betrayed me. In a sort of demoralized sexually hot daze I looked around desperately at the number of people that could easily see, then I looked back at him.

“You cannot be serious?”

“Oh yeah, I am. I really am! Now... suck it, Honeypot.”

I should have just slapped him. I wanted to. I should have stormed off that beach regardless of how much he would say I welched on a bet. I wanted to. But I didn’t. Almost beyond reason, and beyond reasons I can’t articulate, I felt like I had to.

I leaned over and grasped it at the base. It was really thick, so much so that I couldn’t completely close my hand around it. I held it straight up and lowered my face and, with a sense of kind of vague self-loathing and inexplicable helplessness, I extended my tongue and licked it all the way up one side and down another.

“Oh fuck, Honeypot, that is it, just like that. Give old Ron’s big Johnson some loving,” he sighed. “Give that big head a kiss like it’s your best friend, like it it’s your favorite of all time.”

I pursed my lips and leaned down. I pressed them against the big rubbery head and kissed it like a lover.

“Ohhhhh,” he groaned and to almost depressing effect, it elongated a little more.

“Now suck it!” he said.

I opened my mouth, wide. That wasn’t enough, so I opened it even more. I was on the verge of dislocating my jaw, I thought, when I was ready to take the head in. As it pushed past my lips, my senses flooded. It tasted salty, like the sea, like a man, I thought as I started to rock up and down blowing it. I had barely gotten the head in my mouth when I felt his hand on my blonde head.

“More, honey!”

I allowed the pressure as I felt the end of his penis bang against the back of my palate. I had all of the head and the sensitive collar below it going in and out. Then to my distress I felt more pressure on my head.

“More, honey,” he said again.

Now I am not a porn star or some practiced blowjob queen or anything like that. I was already handling about all I could of that thing. His insistence was compelling me to go past my comfort zone. It didn’t really matter what I wanted though. That much was evident. He pushed down on my head and I felt the tip bump the back of my throat.

I gagged furiously.

My eyes watered and my face turned deep red. As I tried not to throw up, I heard Ron chuckle.

“That happens every time,” he said.

I looked at him with a wounded expression.

“Here,” he said offering me a popsicle from a little cooler in the bag, “This will get your throat good and numb and you’ll be fine.”

I took it and gratefully inserted it to the very back of my throat. At first it was tasted funny, but then I realized the popsicle was a frozen stick of that numbing stuff you use when you have a sore throat. A few seconds later I wasn’t feeling anything, not even the sensation of swallowing. Ron looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“Now, back to work, Blondie,” and looking blatantly at the strip of hair between my legs added, “If that is your real name.”

I grabbed his erection and poised it again. This time all I felt as it went in was a sense of fullness and a blockage when I tried to take a breath. I felt the fullness go to the back of my throat.

Then I felt his hand on my head again and I realized he was pushing my face down to take more of that big cock. It went in. I slid back up and took a grateful breath, then went back down to even greater depth. A few seconds later he had me in a fellating rhythm that must have looked obscene to anyone that saw. I was swallowing almost off of his penis and doing it repeatedly. I am sure it looked like I was inhaling a python. I was soon about to know just how obscene it really looked. I was working it, trying to make him climax before the numbness in my throat wore off when I heard a sound like a professional photographer’s camera shutter. I suddenly opened my eyes wide in distress and realized that Ron had taken a picture of me with his cell phone. Before I could even think, he had snapped two more of me staring into the lens with his cock massively distorting my mouth and cheeks.