Beach Play

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A naked upturned butt seems like a dream come true.
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steelring
steelring
1,143 Followers

It was not planned.

We had never even discussed the possibility.

Obviously we had talked about using that kind of beach. You do not just happen to end up on a naturist beach, not even in the south of France. There are maybe fifteen of them, scattered around the Mediterranean coast, but that is not so many that you are likely to come across one just by chance.

I had used this beach before. In fact I had been using naturist beaches whenever I had the opportunity for over twenty years.

I will be honest. I enjoy looking, and I enjoy being seen. I enjoy the freedom of not having to wear beach shorts, and swimming naked is just a whole different experience, but I used to use naturist beaches mainly because I liked seeing women naked, and I also liked the looks that I received.

Just the same, since meeting Rebecca, I had not been on a naturist beach. She had never been on one, although she was used to sunbathing topless when she had the opportunity, and she admitted that she liked the looks she got as well. Given that her breasts are rather fuller than her frame would suggest, and are gravity defying, with ski slope upper curves right to her nipple tips, and three inch wide areoles, I could imagine that she received plenty of looks.

So going naked for me was just what I had done before we met, and for Rebecca it was just one step further, leaving off her bikini bottom as well as the top, and revealing the pouting labia that protrude almost an inch below her hairless pubis.

I hope it does not come across as arrogant to say that we were one of the better looking couples on the beach. French naturist beaches are not filled with female models and male hunks so the competition is not that strong. Anyone and everyone is welcome, regardless of their body shape. You do get some really stunning bodies there, but you also get average, too skinny, overweight, and I have even seen an amputee.

Rebecca and I both keep in shape. We use the gym, and do some running, although Rebecca runs a little less than I do because of the problem that she has with mammary control. Even with a sports bra, she is conscious that her breasts move more than is good for their long term shapeliness. At thirty, she has no worries, but she wants them to look good when she is forty, and at fifty, and sixty, and maybe even beyond that, so she takes care.

Keeping in shape means that she is slim in the right places, as well as having curves where she should. For me, it means that I have reasonable muscular definition, with a flat stomach that may not be quite six cans of coke, but still looks pretty firm, pecs that stand proud, and shoulders that add a couple of inches of width to my frame.

Having given you an idea of Rebeca's assets, I can say with a touch of false modesty, that my own asset gets its share of glances from women who would like to try it out for size, and from guys who wish they could compete. So when I say that we were one of the better looking couples on the beach, I really am just stating a fact. Nothing more.

It might be worth describing the beach itself, without giving away which beach this was. It is accessed by a side road heading south from the route into a resort. The side road leads to wide open parking areas, from which you walk through some dunes to reach the beach itself. There are a couple of naturist camp sites on one side of the track, with their own direct access to the beach. On the other side, the dunes, and the beach, stretch for around a kilometre to a river outlet, which means all that area is naturist, although fewer people walk that far.

Our first couple of days, we stayed around the area you get to as soon as you walk from track onto sand. Most people do. That is not only where it is busiest but it is also where the life-guard is. You get to see more people there, and more people look you over.

Initially, Rebecca was nervous about getting completely naked with other people around for the first time ever, but she had dressed to make sure she could not have any last minute change of mind. In the car, she had worn a white, light cotton, kimono style beach wrap, and nothing else. You cannot stay in a beach wrap on a naturist beach, at least not after your towels are spread out on the sand, and when you are about to lie down. You just have to go naked.

Rebecca took off the beach wrap, rolled it up, and put it in our beach bag, her breasts pendulous as she bent over the bag, and a guy giving a very direct look at her nether regions from his beach towel only a few yards behind her.

The guy was in his sixties, and a little overweight, but his interest in Rebecca's ass and her protruding labia was all too obvious. It was a case of looking without any hope of touching, let alone penetrating, but I could tell he would be glancing our way as often as he thought he could get away with.

As any naturist will tell you, naturism is not about sex. Erections are frowned on. The couples who enjoy lazing naked tend not to be swingers. Some might be, but they do it somewhere else. And it is not just couples. Families use naturist beaches in France, and the kids dig holes in the sand, or build sand-castles, and people hit balls back and forwards with wooden bats, and everyone has a good time.

Anyone who is interested in sex does not stay on the busy part of a naturist beach. They go away from the crowd, and if there are dunes, they go into the dunes.

It was our third day when we went into the dunes.

The night before we had been to a restaurant in a nearby town, and there had been some kind of celebration in the square with a live band and people dancing, so we had stayed around until late before going back to the tented room we were staying in. Airbnb has certainly made holiday accommodation a lot cheaper.

The point of explaining about the celebration was that we had both had more to drink than usual, and it was late when we got back and stripped for bed, and we had just cuddled together and slept, so on the beach the next day, we were both feeling randy, and my cock was, if not erect, then at least thicker and an inch longer than in its dormant state.

Having agreed to head for the dunes, and see what we could get away with there, we picked up our towels and I took the beach bag, and we strolled, hand in hand, heading south, towards the river inlet, until instead of people being four rows deep and only metres apart, there was someone only every twenty metres or so, the people who wanted quiet, and preferred to have space to themselves.

We veered off onto the soft sand that was a good thirty meters wide, heading for a cleft in the dunes, and we walked through and round to the left, up a slight slope, but staying between the mounds of sand with the couch grass that bound them to retain their shape. Taking a right, we found a wider valley surrounded by dunes, and we spread out our towels.

Rebecca knows the secret of giving head. It is not the way that she kisses or sucks my cock that makes her technique so good. It is the way she does everything else, using her hands, fingers, mouth and tongue, between my legs, over my stomach, around the base of my cock, under my balls, and occasionally reaching for my nipples, touching, teasing and playing with them as she uses her mouth much lower down.

Of course she also runs her tongue along the length of my shaft, or her lips, and will lick or kiss the head, and use her tongue to probe around the frenum, where it is most sensitive. Once my cock is hard, and angled at forty five degrees pointing above my head, she will pull it back with her fingers at the base, until it is at the same angle, but pointing towards where she kneels between my legs, and she will bend forward and take as much of it as deep into her mouth as she can.

She never does deep throat. She gags too easily. But then she is not trying to make me come. She is teasing. She is making it last for as long as she can. I have allowed her to tie my wrists to our bedhead and she has spent over an hour torturing me so blissfully, keeping me on the edge, but backing away when she sensed that I might explode, returning to caressing and stroking my legs and stomach, leaving my cock until the sensations subsided to allow her to continue.

There was no bedhead in the sand dunes, but I was lying splayed as if there were, Rebecca was kneeling between my legs, her butt in the air, my cock a bar of iron, her breasts suspended between her torso and my thighs, her nipples grazing my skin, and she was licking the length of my cock from my balls to the swollen head, when the guy appeared.

He came from behind Rebecca, with the sun behind him, so that it was his outline that I saw. He stopped at a discrete distance, realising what he had chanced to find, watching the tableau.

My first instinct was amusement.

I really did not care that someone had noticed us, and was watching as Rebecca sucked my cock. I wondered how Rebecca would have reacted had she realised, and it amused me that she was carrying on oblivious. It was also a turn on in its own right, having a guy watching her give me head.

Like I said, the sun was behind the guy, and it was high and strong, and I had been closing my eyes against it while Rebecca did her thing. With my eyes closed, it was like wearing a blindfold, only bright red through my eyelids. With them open, I was squinting against the sun, and blinded by its brilliance. I had to close my eyes again.

Next time I opened them, the guy was closer, or at least I thought he was. It was difficult to be sure. The second time I opened my eyes again, having rested them against the sun, I was more certain. He was definitely closer.

I guess I assumed that at some stage he would feel that he was close enough. He would maybe watch a while longer, or wait and see if Rebecca moved up my body to squat over my cock and guide it between those beautiful butterfly lips of hers and into what I knew would be wet, inviting cunt. Rebecca gets wet so easily.

So I relaxed. Like I said, being watched was something of a turn on. If Rebecca did decide she wanted to ride me, and the guy was still there, watching, all the more of a turn on, especially knowing that she still did not realise that we were being watched. I looked forward to telling her later.

I closed my eyes again, hoping that she would not take too long with her mouth and tongue, and would want my cock inside her soon.

It may seem strange, but at that stage I still had not really seen the guy. I mean I had seen the outline of his body, but when I could see all of the guy, he was too far away to make out his face, and as he came closer, only a couple of metres behind my wife, looking up against the sun meant that his face was in shadow, and although I could tell that his hair was close cut, I could not tell you much more about how he looked.

I waited for Rebecca to make her move.

Instead, she stopped. Just for a few short seconds, but she stopped. For those few seconds her mouth left my cock, and all I was aware of was her breasts against my legs and her hands on either side of my body, supporting her weight. Then I felt her tongue, probing around the rim of my cock head.

Curious as to what had made her stop, I opened my eyes, just partially, to keep the sun from blinding me with its brightness.

The guy was even closer.

I mean he was close.

I mean he was right behind Rebecca, and he was no longer standing. He was on his knees.

I mean he was so close to her that he was able to caress her buttocks with his hand, which is exactly what he was doing.

He was using just his right hand. He was stroking her soft skin, across her lower back, around her flank, and then dipping down the groove of her buttocks, low enough that his fingers would be at her labia, maybe parting them, feeling how wet she was, and then returning to her lower back and stroking her some more.

His left hand was also busy. He was using it to stroke his cock.

My own cock jerked.

Fuck! This guy was fondling my wife and all my cock could do was jerk from forty five degrees to sixty, and then back, as if it were excited that this guy was fingering the cunt that it longed to be inside.

That was the point at which I realised what could so easily happen at any moment.

If the guy was that close, so close that he could fondle my wife's cunt, and reach to her lower back, then all he would have to do was move a little further forward, and to the side, and it would not be his fingers playing at Rebecca's cunt, but the head of the cock that looked as iron hard as my own.

And at the same time that I recognised that possibility, I also registered that Rebecca was doing absolutely nothing to dissuade him.

But what was happening certainly explained why Rebecca had stopped kissing my own cock. She had obviously felt him touching her, and it would not have taken more than a split second for her to realise that there was no way that it was my hand caressing her buttocks, or my fingers finding their way between her labia.

What gave me more cause for thought was realising that all that had happened was the Rebecca had simply hesitated momentarily in licking and kissing my cock, and had then carried on from where she had left off, as if having someone fondle her from behind was just one of those things that could happen anytime. I wondered if she had even turned around.

The fact is, that her butt was still in the air.

Her ass and pussy were exposed, vulnerable, and if not offered on a plate, then the next best thing, and all my wife had done was to continue licking her husband's cock, allowing whoever it was behind her to continue his exploration of her intimacies.

Or possibly, inviting him to use his cock.

No wonder my own cock had jerked the way it had when I had seen what was happening right before my eyes.

Of course, I knew that things would not really go any further. I could imagine the guy easing his cock into my wife's wet pussy, but I knew that people do not go around sliding their cocks into women they do not know, at least not without an explicit invitation, so I knew it was not going to happen.

All that would happen was happening already. The guy was fingering my wife while she was sucking me, and at some stage he might make her come, or she might climb aboard my cock and ride me to her orgasm, and I would end up exploding as well, and meanwhile the guy was masturbating with his other hand, and might even splatter Rebecca's haunches with his come. That was all that would happen. I closed my eyes again.

Rebecca did that thing with my cock. She angled it back, pointing it towards her mouth. I could feel it, her fingers around my shaft, the gentle pressure and slight stretching of tissue in my lower cock as she eased it to an angle that was not my cock's natural inclination.

Then I felt her lips closing around the rim of my cock head, and her tongue swirling slowly around the sensitive taut skin of the head in the succulent wetness of her mouth.

Besides, I thought, it is not as if guys walk around carrying a pack of condoms just in case. Maybe in the evening, at bars or in clubs, they will carry a three pack of johnnies in the hope that they get lucky. This was approaching mid-day, and therefore it was still morning, so he was unlikely to be on the prowl. Besides, you do not have pockets on a naturist beach to hide the three pack you have with you just in case, and holding them in your hand would look seriously wierd.

You also do not slide bare into someone else's woman. Tempting as her cunt might be, that really does need an invitation. If the woman is on her own, then the chances are that she is on the pill, but if she is with a guy, wearing his ring, then she might not be.

You would want to be sure, before you fuck her bare, and come in her.

Rebecca was on the pill, anyway, so even bare, there was no risk, but the guy would not know that, so he would not take the risk.

Fuck, Rebecca's mouth felt good.

It felt even more amazing knowing that she was being fingered while she sucked my cock.

I pictured what his hand was doing. I had seen that view so many times, Rebecca with her butt in the air, waiting for me to take her from behind. I love the way her labia form that soft entrance to her cunt. Sometimes I use my thumbs to peel them apart and hold them open, and then slide my cock between them. Sometimes I just put my cock head to her cunt and push, and if one or other of her labia gets pushed inside it really does not matter. It just slickly emerges again on the out stroke. Either way, both of those delicious labia then surround my cock shaft while I fuck her.

The guy would be fingering her. Maybe one, maybe two fingers together, reaching below her to where her labia join at the apex, and parting them as his fingers slide between them, finding her entrance, and probing its wetness.

He would definitely find her wet. I knew that. She would be wet enough for him to slip his fingers from her cunt and ease one, or both, in that tighter hole, the dark star. We do not practice anal sex, but I know that she likes to have a finger there, whether the tip, or right to the hilt, and she sometimes pushes back, so that what was just a fingertip intrusion becomes the deeper experience of the finger's entire length.

I was relishing Rebecca's oral ministrations to my cock, but I do not usually come from her giving head. It is sheer heaven, the most blissful experience she can give me, short of my actually fucking her, but only occasionally have I erupted in her mouth. On those occasions she will smile with triumph, the cat who has got the cream, as she swallows my unpasteurised tablespoonful of moist, white, liquid protein.

My preference is to enjoy Rebecca's oral attention, and then let her climb on top, or turn her on her back and move between her legs. I like the feel of her cunt around my cock when I come, and I prefer to know that my semen is spurting where nature intended.

Not that I ever come as soon as I enter her. I can make that last as well. Eighty percent of the enjoyment of making love is the process of fucking the woman that I love. The excruciating pleasure of coming, intense as it is for the minute or two that it lasts, gives only a fifth of the overall pleasure, provided that you make the fucking last.

Besides, a gentleman waits for his woman to enjoy her orgasm.

Rebecca's orgasm is intense, but you would not know it. For her, as she describes it, it is amazing. From the observer's point of view, she simply shudders, which is what I felt her do. The guy had made her come.

Lying with my eyes still closed, I sensed, rather than felt her come, and I smiled to herself. Lovers should always be happy when their partner experiences that ultimate of pleasures.

That was when I felt it well up inside myself, my balls engorging, tightening, preparing for the muscular spasms that would send my semen firing through my shaft and out.

Wanting to savour the moment, knowing that it was the fact of this guy, fingering my wife, making her come, that had made all the difference, and brought me to the brink, I kept my eyes closed and allowed my body to do as it was ready to.

I felt the first spurt of semen race up my shaft, hit the sensitive inner surface of the urethra as it passes through my cock head, and emerge at a crescendo, while Rebecca's lips were still closed around my shaft. It was exquisite.

Then another.

A third, that was not quite so strong.

Then a fourth, and what might have been a series of little aftershocks.

I could sense Rebecca swallowing.

I opened my eyes.

Rebecca was looking at me, her eyes smiling, her mouth still full of cock. The guy was getting up. He had made her come, and had no doubt realised that I had come too, and had played his part. He must have come himself, because his cock was flaccid, thick but not erect. It was a good size, thicker, I had to concede, than mine. The length was about the same, although erect, who knows?

steelring
steelring
1,143 Followers
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