Barefoot on a Nude Beach Ch. 02

NOTE:

This a continuation of "Barefoot on the Nude Beach". I have received quite a bit of feedback regarding the first part, mostly positive. I would like to state that the story in Part 1 is essentially true. It is an elaboration of an event which I witnessed while at the same nude beach in Greece described in the story. The young man mentioned briefly at the beginning, the one whose gaze Marcia would not meet, was I, sitting nearby on a towel with my girlfriend. I never met "Marcia"; I chose a name which happens to be a favorite. Her thoughts and emotions are obviously speculative, but the event is depicted exactly as a remember it. Some people asked me why no one went to Marcia's assistance in her struggle. I was probably as shocked by the episode as was she, frozen with fascination. I did think at first that it was someone she knew beforehand. I began to doubt this when the struggle became more prolonged. Marcia never screamed out loud for help, but spoke in a low voice to the man. She was probably more embarrassed than frightened. As the contest progressed, it became more erotic. Marcia and her girlfriends were clearly Americans; I could tell by their speech, which I was able to overhear. The man looked European. This new part is what I imagined might have happened after they left my view.

I would like to acknowledge the invaluable contribution to this story made by my friend, the lovely and very real Marcia K.

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Marcia's head was swimming as they slowly walked along the sands. Her body was humming with the intensity of the recently induced passion. Her nipples felt hard and hot and conspicuous; they were so sensitive now that the slight breeze caused them to tingle. She kept her eyes closed in the shame and excitement of what had occurred so publicly so few minutes ago. Her head lay upon his shoulder, the side of her body pressed against his as they moved. Her legs felt like gelatin and could barely hold her weight. His arm around her held her up, keeping her from falling. They walked.

Marcia's senses began slowly to come back to her. Awareness of her situation began to return to her as her breathing slowed. She opened her eyes and looked ahead of them, seeing beach and people and trees. She felt the press of the man's naked side against hers, his leg and thigh brushing against, caressing hers as they moved. Where were they going? Who was he? He had not spoken one word to her since the initial "meeting" of his mouth with her body. As she fought to restore some degree of control over herself, make her mind work again, the man could sense the beginnings of renewed tension in her, of fear, of doubt. He held her more tightly with his arm. Marcia lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him, asking,

"Who are you?"

He held her firmly with his left arm around her shoulders and merely responded softly,

"Shhhh,"

not returning her gaze. She began to grow annoyed at his prolonged reticence. But he gave the annoyance no time to grow into anger. With his left arm around her shoulder, he discretely flicked the index finger of his left hand, with unbearable lightness, across the still distended, aching and so sensitive tip of her left nipple, casually rubbing the tip with a silken, exquisite caress, causing Marcia to gasp again. Whatever her suspicions, her anxiety, whoever he was, this simple, but so poignant touch was too much for her to resist in her current aroused state, and she lay her head again upon his shoulder, yielding to it, shutting her eyes as her nipple again demanded all of her awareness. He distracted her, calmed her in this way, keeping her pliant, allowing him to lead her, not looking at her, delicately caressing the nipple with seeming indifference, subtlety so it was not apparent to others as they passed, but oh so apparent to Marcia. That part of her was by now so hypersensitive that the slightest suggestion of a touch sent shivers through her.

He kept her walking with him, compliant with the delicate titillation; Marcia tilted her head just a little and looked down at his body. She saw the hair on his chest and legs and then she looked between them, at his circumcised cock, not erect, but dangling semi-hard. Marcia had always thought that a semi-hard cock was more dangerous, sexier in some ways than a fully erect one. It held a promise of impending penetration and conquering passion, without the flagrant overtness of a fully erect penis. A soft cock still needed to be aroused, cajoled into readiness, tempted into hardness by her touches, at the same time adding to her own arousal. She watched it wave, bumping against his thighs, proudly exposed to her gaze; her fascination was becoming hunger. She wondered what it would feel like in her hands, in her mouth, in her body. She was absorbed by the sight of this beautiful part of him, gesturing to her, beckoning, promising, but also daunting. She craved this man but also feared him.

She didn't know where they were going and started to think about her girlfriends, back on the beach towel, wondering if they missed her; but his distracting, gentle, yet maddening touches upon her nipple and the hypnotic dance of his cock before her eyes kept her tractable, powerless from dwelling upon these concerns, much less acting upon them. They walked further up the beach, away from the water, and she saw a sandy parking lot over the hillock that separated the waterside beach from the interior area. They were walking towards it.

They moved together, conjoined like one body, from the soft sand of the beach into the harder gritty sand of the parking lot. There were cars and buses resting all around, basking in the sun, but no people. He seemed to have a destination in mind as they weaved between parked vehicles. He led her toward a blue van, the large type with a sliding door in the side. No one else was around. They walked up to it and, still holding her with his left arm, he opened the sliding door with his right. Hot air rushed out to greet them. Marcia peered into a dark interior open space, a private place or ... a place of entrapment. She felt him try to coax her inside with his body. Marcia began to feel fear now in spite of her arousal, in spite of his touching. She hesitated at the threshold, her body stiffening, her hand grabbing the side of the opening. She said to him:

"Where are we going?", knowing perfectly well where they are going. "Is this your van?"

He said nothing but urged her inside again. He felt her alarm, turning to panic, straining against his arm around her, pulling her body back from the doorway,

"No, No, I don't want to."

He eased the pressure and didn't urge her any more now. But still holding her shoulders with one strong arm, he turned her toward him. Marcia tensed her chest, pulling back, for she was afraid he would go for her nipples again with his mouth. Instead he reached his free hand down toward her vagina, exposed like the rest of her. He put his hand between her thighs before she could react, and quickly inserted his middle finger into her. Marcia tried to close her legs and keep him out. She could not. Her body jerked and then stiffened with this new intrusion. She cried out softly:

"Ohhhh! Noooo!"

However there was no resistance inside of her -- she was already wet – just a gentle suction on his finger from the tightness of the passage. Marcia's thighs twitched at this invasion; she gasped again as she felt him so provocatively inside of her. She fought against him, pushing him against his chest, trying to twist away, half-heartedly reliving the struggle that had occurred just a little while ago on the beach. He was still too strong. He moved his now moistened finger up to her clitoris, finding it, rubbing it softly. He held her to him at the entrance of the van and slowly, carefully, rhythmically, massaged her with his finger. She struggled less as he massaged her. The pleasure of this was so intense, so overpowering for Marcia, the touch so intimate and stimulating, that her resistance was much shorter than before. She began to melt. The friction of his finger was unbearable. Her mouth opened. Her breathing increased. She sagged against him, her face against his chest, as he stroked her with his finger persistently, provoking ripples of pleasure that overwhelmed her and left her helpless. He caressed her steadily like this until he once more felt her surrender to him, the tension fading, allowing him to support her body against his, her face resting again on his shoulder, panting into his ear. As he continued, she felt his hardening cock nuzzling against her stomach. The movement of his finger upon her was urging her along, driving her, moistening her, coaxing her into whimpering helplessness. She cried out once softly, then again. He massaged her until her legs trembled steadily; they parted further and her cries became a long continuous moan.

He then removed his finger. He caught her, almost fainting, in his arms, one under her upper legs and one under her torso, lifting her, carrying her cradled in his arms like a baby. He stepped up into the warm van with Marcia and placed her gently upon the floor which was cushioned with a thick rug. She lay on her back, blinking into the unaccustomed darkness, trying to see where she was, her body still resonating with the so recent memory of his killing touches. He turned on a small light, closed the sliding door and looked down at her. He was smiling. Marcia looked up at him with some apprehension at their confinement. She asked him:

"Who are you? What is your name?"

There was no reply. He merely smiled and crouched down to her.

"I'm afraid."

No reply.

He pulled her legs apart with his hands and crouched between them. Marcia was getting scared again.

"We can't do this. Please. I'm afraid. Really!"

The man said nothing. His silence was infuriating. Marcia lay there, panting with fear, but also with an erotic expectation of what was about to happen to her. She wondered how she had gotten here. Why didn't this guy say anything? She worried, but she was past even any token physical resistance at this point. The man lay down upon her, his weight upon her, opening her legs wider with his knees and holding them open. He grabbed both of her slender wrists in one hand, holding them above her head, pinioning her under him on the floor. Marcia felt his body warm, glowing against hers, the points of touch between them magnified as his flesh met hers in a thousand places. With his other hand, he guided his now stiff-hard penis to her opening. Marcia tensed as she felt the proximity of him to her, instinctively pulling her vagina back from him. He ignored her hesitation and pushed gently inside of her, but just an inch or so and stopped. Marcia groaned as she felt him enter her. It had been so long for her, since a man's penis was inside her body. She had forgotten the intensity of it, the excitement, the sense of being subdued, possessed but fulfilled at the same time. He had her now. This was going to happen. The pleasure determined her. She wiggled her buttocks, trying to get him further into her, but he kept his cock just inside the opening, not moving, keeping it there, prolonging her anticipation. Then he starting a back and forth motion with his cock barely inside her, never penetrating inside more than the inch that he had initially. He was fucking just the entry of her vagina with the head of his cock -- back and forth, teasing her, working her up gradually. She wanted to move her hands around his buttocks to pull him deeper; she tried to pull them away from his grasp, but he kept them pinned above her head. He rocked in and out, maddening her with the insinuation of the cock barely inside her, frustrating her, promising so much more. She willed him to go deeper. He kept this up until her buttocks began to twitch and thrash beneath him. He smiled to himself. Marcia cried out:

"God... Please...Come on. What are you doing to me?"

He kept up the torment. She needed him deeper now. She thrust up her buttocks to his cock and managed to get maybe another inch, but he quickly compensated, pulled back and continued to massage the first inch of her vagina with his cock. Marcia moaned, squirming on the floor of the van, her hands and arms useless above her head. Her thighs clasped his. She then moved her legs up, first pressing the back of his legs with her feet. She was becoming frantic in her lust. Come on! Now! He sustained the cruelly tormenting motion, looking into her face, enjoying her cries, her gasps, her facial contortions, her struggles to free her hands. Then she moved her legs higher and closed them firmly around his waist, ankles interlocked, thighs wide open, her vagina opening more, inviting him, pleading for him, dying for him. He slid in just a little deeper and then deeper still, but so excruciatingly slowly; he fed it to her a slow fraction at a time, then always pulling back, sustaining the pleasurable anguish as long as possible; her legs pulled him tightly, urging him deeper. Marcia groaned and cried out:

"Ohhh. God! You feel wonderful".

He was stroking her in this manner about half way in now. In a little and back out. He continued this playful mini-fuck for a while, driving Marcia out of her mind with arousal. He kissed and licked her neck as his cock stayed midway, moving just enough so she could feel it. Marcia ducked her head to one side try to impede his access to her ticklish neck. It was no use; he pressed his face through, passed her blockading chin, to the soft flesh. His bre

ath was on her throat, then his lips, then his tongue. Her neck had always been much too sensitive, almost painfully so, and his tongue there was electric, shocking her tender flesh, thrilling it. Her head squirmed, her neck under his kisses, as she responded to his mouth, provoked to more passionate intensity. Her licked her ears, causing her to shudder. All the while his cock stayed at the front of her passage. Marcia finally gasped:

"God! I'm in heaven."

She was ready now. He now pushed his cock fully finally into her and lay close upon her body, possessing her fully; the only thing separating their groins was their pubic hair. She moaned loudly. It was a deeper moan of pure pleasure, coming from her depths, exhaling her utter surrender as he probed into the most profound and intimate part of her. A slight grunt issued from him as he felt her pussy contracting against him, grasping him, holding him. He released her arms and rested himself upon his elbows. She insinuated her arms around his back and rubbed his shoulders. Her legs were still around him; her arms were now around him. They were tightly entwined, a tangle of flesh and limbs, sweat and sounds of sex. He began to thrust into her in earnest now. The preparatory teasing was past, the real fucking was now beginning. He didn't rush. He pulled out slowly almost to the tip, paused for a moment of pleasure suspense, then pushed back slowly into her, filling her completely. Her inner pussy compressed his cock, holding him when he was deep inside, trying to keep him there, embracing him in a yielding embrace, almost a massage, as he started the withdrawal, regretfully relinquishing the hard sensation of him, her muscles and inner flesh grasping him until the very last moment when he completed the extraction, as if kissing him farewell as the last contact was broken. He hurried none of it, not the insertion nor the pulling out, but kept it up at a steady pace, in and out, giving her his full length, letting her feel all of his masculine power.

Her inner contractions upon his cock were having an effect on him too as his breathing grew faster and louder. Sensing his growing excitement served to increase Marcia's. She held him, fucked him back, kissed his neck, grasped him with her legs, massaging him inside of her, arousing him, wanting to pay him back a little for the sweet torment he had been causing her. She would make him come first, force him to surrender himself to her, giving her a little edge in this prolonged sexual battle of will.

When he pushed slowly in, she contracted her muscles hard against him. He pulled out and she held him as long as possible. His breath grew ragged, and he moaned each time his penis popped out of her, her lingering pussy kiss upon the sensitive head of his cock giving him great pleasure now. He pushed back in, holding it just an instant, and she moaned pleadingly as he reached into her very quick, touching her as deeply as she could possibly be touched. He was winning with the inward thrusts, but she was getting to him with the withdrawals. Marcia plied her pussy against his cock with instinct and finesse, holding in the head just for a moment before it could escape, caressing it, until it was once again free, ready to plunge into her again.

The contest went on without pause, in and out: with each stroke, first he was ascendant and then she, moans mingled with moans, the motions became a little faster. When he pushed in, a cry came from Marcia; when he drew out he sighed. Who would give in first and yield to the intolerable sensations? The rhythm continued. The man could feel his groin start to tighten as the arousal became unbearable for him. Her legs were fixed around his waist, keeping him in place, keeping her in charge. Her inner muscles were massaging him constantly, working on him, compelling him. Marcia felt his growing excitement and smiled to herself: this time she would make him give in to it. She would teach him a lesson. He would submit first to her. The rhythmic thrusting went on with an obligato of moans and cries. He was getting closer. Marcia kept contracting and kneading him inside of her.

As he felt himself nearing the edge, beginning to lose all control, he lifted up his chest further from hers, making her arms lose their grip on his back, her legs were still holding his waist. He put his mouth down to her chest and took her aroused, hard left nipple in his lips, sucking it in, licking it and massaging it with his tongue. Marcia cried out:

"No...Ohhh... God."

This wasn't fair. This was too much. She had been able, barely able, to withstand the enticing pleasure of his cock up to now, but not the shock of her nipple being sucked at the same time. This was too much. He had her again. This is where he wanted her. Her continued the fucking and the sucking of her nipple until Marcia panted fiercely and moaned louder. She writhed her chest about beneath him, her nipple again trapped in his lips, beguiled by his tongue. This was more than a woman could endure. Her body began to grow tense, her legs tighter around him, her arms pulling against his head. The waves of pleasure crashing against her from above and below were building up to a point of no return. Her clitoris was being kissed constantly now by the upper part of his cock. It was unbearable. Every movement was sweet agony. He was taking her last bit of restraint by storm. She couldn't concentrate either upon her nipple or her clitoris – this combination of pleasure assaults was too strong for her. He kept on. She felt herself slipping into oblivion. He felt her slipping. He thrust a little faster and sucked on her rigid nipple even harder. She couldn't stop it. He forced her over the brink into full orgasm. Her upper body stopped writhing, raised up, suspended in air, her chest pressed against his mouth and trembled. Her legs quivered, opening and closing spasmodically around him. Her arms squeezed him tightly, trying to stifle the overpowering sensations that were consuming her. It was no use. Her pussy started a series of successive, hard contractions on his cock as he held it deep inside of her, giving her the full enjoyment, the full sensation of the orgasm. She cried into his neck as she rode the overwhelming waves of release, floating her higher and higher until she was at a place where there was no air, where she could not breathe. She gasped for breath nonetheless. She clutched him unknowingly, unconsciously in her spasms as she rode the waves, floating, dreaming, almost dying. She cried out in her pleasure.