Beach Lover

The beach was haunted only by a Midsummer breeze, the roar of the ocean and the light of a nearly full moon. The calming scent of salt and sand soothed the deepest reaches of my soul. Wandering up and down the dunes, I collected driftwood into a pile. Crumpled paper plates sputtered to life at the touch of a lighter and licked the pile into crackling yellow-orange flames. Dancing around the fire to the music of the ocean, I enjoyed my unbridled solitude. The moonlight bathed the beach prehistoric in its emptiness, and I embraced the feeling that the whole world belonged to me alone.

I dropped shirt and swimsuit by the fire and walked to the water's edge. I love skinny dipping and have since I was little. The water surrounds me, caresses me softly, lifts me up and rocks me gently. It's like returning to the womb and gives me a high equaled by few things in life. Playing like a child I pretended to be a mermaid, holding my legs together, as if bound at the ankles, to simulate my tail. I thrust my hips to propel through the water, diving, spinning, and trying to jump above the surf. I swam for a long time sensing a kinship with the life in the sea.

Energized by the water dance I emerged breathless and giddy. The moonlight glistening on wet skin made me sparkle. A soft breeze on damp breasts brought my nipples to attention, a sight that always arouses me. I sat by the fire and lifted a breast in each hand. Rolling the tight nubs between finger and thumb, I lay back pressing an imprint into the sand to form fit my body. Caressing my tits expertly, my body began to warm from more than the flames of my small fire.

Slowly my hand traced my abdomen, brushing past pubes, into the moist, warm crevice that awaited attention. I spread my legs to provide easier access to probing fingers. With one hand still fondling my breasts, the other ventured into small circles around my clit. I ran through a favorite fantasy and my juices had just begun to flow when I sensed I was being watched. My eyes flew open.

A man's face hovered, illuminated eerily just outside the ring of firelight, he stood in the shadows, silent and threatening. I froze.

I tried to decide if I could make a run for it. I glanced up and down the coastline. No one in sight! No one to hear me scream, no one to run to my rescue. I just lay there, naked, vulnerable, staring at him. Then something odd happened. He held up both hands as if he surrendered and took a step back from me. Somehow I understood that he wanted to watch.

Why did that make me so hot?

If I did as he wished, maybe he wouldn't hurt me. Unless something changed, it was my only option. Taking a deep breath I lay back in the sand, my eyes locked on his dark figure, afraid to look away.

Tentatively I slipped my right hand into the warmth between my legs and found it surprisingly slick and swollen. Slowly my finger began to slide around my clit as I twisted and pulled alternately at my nipples. Keenly aware that he was watching, I wondered if he had ever seen a woman masturbate before. The act of exhibiting myself was more exciting than I could have imagined and my breath became shallow. I decided to give him a real show. I began to gyrate my hips in a provocative circular motion, grinding my ass into the sand. My fingers moved more quickly and a small moan escaped. My left hand cupped my right breast and brought it to my lips. When I arched my neck forward, my mouth reached the nipple. My eyes were still glued to the strange voyeur as my tongue circled my nipple and my fingers moved more frantically over my ripe clitoris.

Soon I was biting gently at the nipple, a curious finger quickly darting into wetness, then sliding up to find my clit again. My finger would disappear, then reappear to dance across my pulsating clit. I rocked my pelvis, up and down as though I were fucking an invisible lover. My excitement grew and I began to sweat. With the roar of the ocean pounding in my mind, I became oblivious to the fact that anyone was watching. Absorbed in my moonlight masturbation, my fingers worked feverishly. I was rubbing hard, back and forth, in and out, nearing the edge. Panting heavily, my legs stiffened, raising my hips high to thrust my imaginary lover as deep as possible. My body shook with orgasm. It lasted forever as I continued rubbing back and forth, gently now, to prolong the glorious climax. Finally I closed the palm of my hand over my pussy, and curled onto my side hugging myself and breathing heavily.

When I opened my eyes, I saw him still standing in the shadows. He had his erection in his hand, stroking it slowly. He appeared small framed and swarthy, and his prick was standing strait out in front of him. I watched him manipulate it in long slow strokes interspersed with short quick ones. His other hand circled through his pubes and up his lower abdomen. His gaze was fixed on me.

I studied him, mesmerized by the way he was looking at me hungrily, as though he had never seen a naked woman. He no longer seemed threatening. He looked lost and lonely and very naive. I licked my lips seductively and spread my legs toward him. This visibly excited him so I opened myself completely, showing him the deep mauve and pinks of the swollen treasure beneath my bush. I pulled at my nipples and bit my lips while I made little moaning sounds deep in my throat, consciously trying to evoke his orgasm.

Now I watched the stranger as intently as he watched me. He dropped to his knees, thrusting his hips forward as he stroked and squeezed his cock. More aroused now than I had ever been, I watched the figure of this strange man nearing a state of orgasm. My own exhibition began to take control of my body, accelerating me toward another climax.

He leaned forward, still working his right palm in hard, fast strokes. He brought his face right down between my thighs and inhaled deeply, taking in my womanly scent. He sniffed my pussy like I was a bitch in heat. Something about this animalistic instinct pushed me toward the edge. He sniffed again. The look on his face was pure ecstasy. The third time he inhaled me, his back arched and he threw his head back violently. His gasps for breath came as short low moans. Then the thick liquid ran down his hand as he sat back on his heels. I felt intoxicated with my second orgasm. It didn't last as long as the first, but was more intense. My eyes squeezed shut as the orgasm rolled me.

When they opened, he was gone. I looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was not a dream. His footprints were proof of that. He simply watched, took what he needed, and vanished.

I flopped back on the sand breathing hard and smiling. I shook my head and laughed, thinking my mother couldn't be angry if she ever found out. After all, I hadn't actually spoken to the stranger.