An Afternoon at the Beach

Long after writing my first Literotica short story a nagging feeling started to knaw at me, basically to the effect that I had not yet explored all I wanted to in that first attempt. In that one all the events centre around a couple's fun if understated post-pandemic escapade, including some discretely daring sexual experimentation in a cinema and then on the streets. It was all set within a cultured urban scene. What I offer here is different in details and tone, even if I explore and extend on some similar kinds of themes.

Amongst other things this story takes the experimentation up a notch, including because a different coupling are no longer just a couple. They have now become three. From that starting point the core ides here is to contrast the sometimes-aggressive macho world of Aussie surf culture, which is troubling even if there are many elements of the surf scene which are healthy and wonderful, against made up experiences of three people who try to break free through sexually diverse and gender fluid expression.

The changed scenario leads to something that progressively builds in ways that are a little less discreet and a little more frantic. It builds into an overflowing explosive experience in multiple small and large ways. It's all set within one extended afternoon in and around the beach. Similar experimentation was there in my first story, but this time it's a deeper and different kind of fantasy, and tests ideas and boundaries by going much further. I hope you like it.

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"I love touching you," she sighed. She had sneakily put her left hand inside my pants in the cafe. I had grown. "I never could keep my hands off you." I could feel my eyes dilate into the back of my head as she exposed me under our table in the corner and lightly pulled down. She only reluctantly put everything back in place and discretely pulled her hand out on seeing a waitress coming towards us. She gave us a quizzical look, seeming to suspect what was happening, but said nothing. We ordered lunch and she went back behind the counter.

"I missed that," I said. "The way you just couldn't keep your hands off me sometimes in certain moments was always wonderful. It made me feel truly wanted. For you, I always loved your reckless abandon. The uncontrollable hip thrusting, body shaking, all over extreme pleasure you had when I went down to give you what you wanted was something I never forgot. I loved that you recognise me as a generous lover, too. It made me want to give all the more."

"In reverse here's a present. The main thing goes nicely with lingerie," she said with a cheeky smile.

We had only been back in contact again recently after so many years, building a friendship once more. We hadn't yet made love. But there had been much frission and desire had been growing. She had already reminded me about my wearing a silk g-string back then, and encouraged me to go back to something like it if I really wanted. She'd happened to give me my first pair of mens lingerie in this very beachside cafe years ago. For today, and encouraged by her, I'd gone as far as I had since those days, wearing soft and delicate lace mens underwear underneath my ordinary clothes. We had talked about wearing a dress or skirt as well. Maybe one day I would. But for today this quiet and invisible rebellion against normal for here was enough. Or at least that's what I had thought.

She passed over a box about the size of a large novel, wrapped in birthday paper given it was my fortieth the week before. I opened it up in our Cronulla macho-surfy style cafe, much as I'd opened up a box containing that silk g-string undergarment all those years ago. Similar to then, I let out an involuntary gasp as I took my first peak inside. In that gasp was a combination of relief, of gratefulness, and even a kind of quiet but deep felt joy. Someone had thought to give me something purely focused on my pleasure. But it wasn't just that. Similar to all those years ago it meant all the more because of where she gave it to me, what it said about her not caring about what others thought, that it meant she felt love for me even though I was different from a presumed norm, and indeed loved me precisely because of the difference and not in spite of it. As before, the moment meant all the more because of all these unstated things in the background.

As previously the box itself was anonymous, giving a degree of discretion between us as I reached in and pulled out what was inside. It was a plug. To me it was beautiful and smooth. It was nicely weighted. It was black. It was perhaps five inches or so long, and it had good width even if it was not enormous. It was remote controlled and I knew it. Back at that cafe just off Cronulla Beach all these years hence, and long after the sickening riots that had blighted this beachside area and laid bare some of its ugly underlying demons, in updated form she had done and given me something just as kind, just as significant, and just as much appreciated. It was a perfect sign of the particular kind of open and rebuilt friendship we had managed to achieve, and even in the same spot where I had been given my first such gift in this general direction.

"Hang on, where's the remote? I've wanted this for so long and I can't believe how thoughtful you are, again, to give me something like it. But I know there's a remote."

She smiled. "It's your birthday but you don't get everything at once. Some things have to wait."

At that moment and moving almost imperceptibly back on her seat against a wall, she slowly inched up her summer dress. No one else would have been able to see. We were in a discrete and well-hidden corner. But I could see clearly. She had no panties on and she had shaved. I nearly doubled over for lack of breath this time.

"When did you do that? You never wanted to and I never asked. It seemed disrespectful and wrong given I knew you didn't want to, so I would never have asked for it from you. Did you know I would be turned on by that somehow anyway? I desperately want to touch you now." I started to throb.

"A few things you said made me guess, and for the sake of finding out how it felt for me and you, and for the new tactile sensation it might allow, I changed my mind and thought I'd give it a chance. I quite like how it feels for myself, but do you like?"

"Goodness yes! I've always had more of a thing for women older than me. So I want you to know that this doesn't change that. Instead, I'd always imagined how much more sensitive things might be, how much more responsive, and even more pleasurable for both people. That's what turns me on about it."

"Well then, why are you waiting. You know what to do."

I was close enough to touch. She indicated clearly that I should. I was sitting on her left. She opened her legs almost absurdly wide, even splaying her left leg over my right, though no one else but us would have known. I reached my right hand over and down, and caressed over creases and around lines. I grazed soft and smooth skin either side of her folds, and then slowly allowed my fingers to go inside and start moving in and out. Things moved smoothly. To say she was ready would be a wild understatement.

Suddenly and with my fingers now deep inside, she involuntarily snapped her legs together to hold me in place and keep me on the spot I'd just found. She leaned forward a little now so that my fingers inside got wedged even tighter, and also so that she could grind down on my hand to give herself pleasure on that outside spot, in tandem with an insanely pleasurable feeling from massaging of another place well under the surface. She bit her lip. She muffled a groan. Now her eyes rolled back into her head as she quietly whispered "You'd better stop. But maybe feel my behind too. There's a surprise there for you."

I took my fingers and hand out and she leaned forward just a little more, so I could move them around to her rear. I lifted up her dress and traced down the line between her cheeks. I found a plug in place down there. I pressed on it and moved it around a little. She muffled a groan again.

"I'm so turned on and that's getting into the area of the wall inside between my back and front. It's surprisingly sensitive, nice and full. That thing you're doing now, too, just tracing lightly around my spot is explosively wonderful as well," she managed to exhale out before sitting back as a signal to end our play. Having re-fixed her dress in place and regained composure she said "Anyway, I thought we could wear something matching," and she smiled mischievously. "Go on, you'd better slip out and put that in. You'll find some lube in the box to help you. I have much planned for today and that's just the start."

I went out the back and into the same bathroom I had used all those years ago to slip on the silk g-string. When I opened the box properly I found that not only was there the beautiful and beautifully weighted black plug and the lube, but also some silky smooth and tactile lingerie for men. They were cut in a luxuriant shortie style, and indeed felt even more luxurious than what I was already wearing.

I slipped it all on, put my normal clothes back on top, and went back out into blokey Cronulla surf territory. To use a slang shorthand description, she had a certain surfer-chick vibe about her at times even if it was within a refined and dignified overall disposition. So she certainly didn't hate all elements of this scene and nor did I. The truth was substantially the opposite. We liked this milieu plenty even if we wanted elements of it to be better, more open, more welcoming, and more diverse.

As in the past I loved that she not only didn't care for the worst elements of this whole scene but also rejected them. She embraced me because of my contrast against that problematic side, and through this small but defiant shared gesture. Walking out of the bathroom and with each step I loved the feeling of soft lace shifting lightly over skin, along with the smooth pleasure rolling around firmly inside my rear. Yet as I walked towards the table I could see she wasn't alone.

"I want you to meet someone. This is my partner," she said as I drew near. She must have seen the flash of mortification on my face and hurried to reassure me. "We have a very open and loving relationship, as I've assured you all along. He's not threatened by you and he's incredibly open minded. I wanted you to meet him so that whatever happens you don't feel anxious or wrong, a bit like you have been open with your partner. For now that's all I wanted though there are other possibilities if you are open to them. Sit down and let's talk. We'll just see where things lead in case you're up for more."

We all sat down and started talking, with me now in the middle of the two of them. As we got more and more comfortable and even talked and laughed about our amorous lives, I felt her left hand start creeping up my right leg again. She was sitting on my right once more and he was to my left. Before I knew it she had drawn down my pants and lingerie, re-exposing me behind the semi-privacy of the table.

She pulled lightly with her left hand at first, but then more insistently. I even started to leak. In a flash and unexpectedly he started to go down on me even whilst she continued to help. She ran her right hand through his hair encouraging him, before she took that hand away and used it to turn on the plug using the remote. With her left hand she kept on stroking ever more insistently, whilst also helping to guide me into his mouth.

The pleasure of it all jolted through me. I quickly started to ache, but I was holding back with fierce determination and not wanting to finish there and then. Even as she kept working with her left hand, with her right she put the remote down and now hiked up her summer dress again, re-splayed her legs, and discreetly touched herself whilst enjoying the view. She paused only for a moment to switch the vibrations for me up a notch, and it even started to thrust inside.

Meanwhile he was taking me deeper and deeper, until I did not think I could take any more. Her right hand suddenly came up from on herself and moved under my shirt onto my torso. I could feel her fingers were wet. She ran them all over my chest whilst kissing me on the neck and then ear, and then she whispered "Let go. I remember how much you loved a version of this with just us in the car and when we were younger all those years ago. Let go. We talked about this before and we want you to have it. Let go."

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After that extraordinary lunch the rest of our afternoon was largely unremarkable even if comfortable and lovely. Or at least that's what it was like until the last portion of the day. We'll get to that shortly. She convinced me to take the plug out even though I was reluctant, rightly saying that I would start to get sore if I left it in too long. Besides, we wanted to walk around freely. She took her plug out too.

All three of us had a wonderful time together and genuinely enjoyed each other's company, meandering between dips in the ocean and wandering the promenade areas around the beach. Much later that day we even took a large picnic rug out of her car to take back down to the sand, to just sit and talk together through the latter part of the afternoon. By this time we'd moved to a beach spot well up from Cronulla Beach itself, even if we could still see the area in the distance.

As the sun started to disappear ever further behind us, and as the deserted sand in front and around Wanda Beach to Cronulla's north stretched out ahead before our eyes, we realised that we had become so engrossed in conversation that we hadn't properly realised that night was on the cusp of setting in. A shared feeling of languid solitude was reinforced by Wanda being so much less inhabited, despite it still being close to Cronulla.

At this time of day and in this moment, our current corner of the world inspired a certain quiet and introspective feeling. Even though there was still some fading sunlight it was late given it was summer. Yet though the air had more crispness about it one wouldn't say it was cold. Still, sitting on our picnic rug she suddenly shivered a little. I looked over at her torso. Beneath her dress one could get a hint of renewed strong desire. She had nothing at all on underneath and at this moment as much was obvious.

We hadn't done anything further in an amorous sense since the daring and dangerous moment earlier in the day. We were all exhausted at the time but also thrilled by it. Yet I was conscious that I had received without yet giving much. Also, one could feel that our energies and desires were coming back. I wanted to give back if and when they were ready. I looked over at him and had some idea his mind might now be turning to more amorous thoughts too.

"There was something else we talked about and which we don't want you to be embarrassed by", she suddenly said to me. "We both know about your not being, shall we say, fully straight."

I laughed. "Well that much would be obvious by now!"

"Yes, quite obvious. Together we were both so happy to be part of helping you start to explore that side. Honestly we were. But we wondered if you were ready to go further, and wanted to go further with exploring other elements that we suspect are there for you?"

"How do you mean?" I started to shake a little and my voice trembled as I said it. I had some vague idea what could come next. But I hadn't dared let myself even think ahead or to hope for more.

"Open that bag over there and then let's talk."

I did as she suggested. Just then she came over and put a hand on my back, as if to reassure me that it was ok and I could trust them. Indeed I did trust them. The day of talking together and getting to know one another more than ensured that. I knew it instinctively. Inside was a long flowing skirt in my size. It was made of luxuriant tactile black material, a little like a similar long flowing skirt she wore on a wonderful day out together years ago. It had hugged her curves around her upper legs and rear, and led to a day of beachside teasing and anticipation.

"Do you remember that day at the beach years ago when I wore something like this?" she asked.

"I certainly do. By the end of a day of enjoying each other's company, of teasing you with caresses on your rear, of grazing your lingerie underneath, and then ultimately returning to the cool of the room in your home we were just about tripping up the stairs and desperate to get started."

"That's right," she beamed back. "But even back then and even after a full day of glorious torture I wasn't allowed to finish quickly. We hiked up my skirt and instead of ripping it all off as we might have on other days, you spent an eternity grazing over panties, tugging lightly at elastic, and then getting fingers inside only ever so lightly. When you finally touched my outside spot I was so sensitive I couldn't stop buckling back wildly."

"I remember well," I said as more of that earlier day was coming back to me. In truth I'd never remotely or entirely forgotten it. "At the same time, and in between largely losing consciousness of everything except extreme super light pleasure, you were somehow doing the same thing around my own silk underwear. It had been sliding around on my skin and over my taboo spot all day, and so I was also desperate for release. But in the cool of that room you wouldn't give it. Your warm hands floated over my front and grazed silk more than touching it. By the time you finally put your hands ever so gently underneath the fabric, took hold so lightly that you were barely touching, and then suddenly pulled down I almost finished there and then."

All this was ultimately a precursor for one of the most extraordinary love making moments of our lives. But that was so many years ago now. She was helping me to remember as part of building the charge in the present. Except now it might be me wearing the skirt at the beach, and maybe her teasing me and getting me ready for more. At the least that's what seemed to be on the horizon.

I continued digging into the bag. Apart from the dress there was a new silk g-string, though much better quality than the one I wore when we were young and poor all those years back. There were no shoes. The tone of the day mostly involved a barefoot escapade anyway. But there was a white cotton blouse in there too, barely distinguishable from men's clothes but still clearly different up close. She began to stroke my back as I suddenly struggled for air, and even began to cry a little.

"Are you ok."

"Yes. I'm more than ok. Can you both look out and cover my privacy a little whilst I put these on? I'd love to wear them if that's ok by you?"

"Of course it is. We're so pleased you like them." After discreetly putting them on she said "let me apply a little something to make you up. I chose some colours and shades that will suit you really well." She put some nail polish, lipstick and make up on. It was understated and classy, both matching her sensibility and what I liked.

The overall tone of my re-made self was relaxed but in the direction of feminised evening-wear for a casual night out. It was certainly not Newtown-drag, even though we loved that scene too. It might have had a little hint of Edith Campbell Berry and her fictionalised cabaret-burlesque exploits in decadent Europe of the 1920s. But if there was a hint of that it was only a hint, to be discovered in the silk garter that was now being slipped up my thigh and under the dress. I felt super wearing it all in front of them, partly because they really liked it too.

This whole experience wasn't so much about me wanting to be feminised, though there was an element of that in it. I more wanted to be masculine and strong in a way that got rid of presuppositions about what that's supposed to include. For that reason I really liked the process of being re-made like this, even if for me this felt like something I would only want to do in the most trusting, safe and welcoming of spaces. Oddly, they had created a space like that for me out in public, and only just up from of one of the most unlikely locations in Sydney.