tagErotic CouplingsHandjob at the Beer Shack

Handjob at the Beer Shack

bySandraMustard©

This story is my entry in Literotica's Nude Day 2015 contest. This is a pure fantasy tale with fictitious locations for salacious activities with imagined studly characters except I am the protagonist at a much younger age. This plot is not related to anything I have actually done but there is nothing here that I am not capable of trying. Any names of, or other similarities to, real locations or establishments in my story are purely coincidental. All characters are over eighteen. Please rate the story at the end based on your judgment of its writing quality. Thank you.

I always acknowledge proofreading help provided by volunteer editors at Literotica who work without compensation. I still wish to mention that the efforts of 'AirRichard101' were crucial in improving the grammar and mechanics of this story even though I rewarded him with a sexual favor.


Handjob at the Beer Shack - Sandy has a hands-on experience with a nudist at a bar. So you, the reader, don't accuse me of jerking you around, this story is about one long jerk-off and that's all, but one any man would love to receive.

© SandraMustard 2015

* * * * *

My husband and I have long been exhibitionists, showing our naked bodies and performing observed sex acts. We just never were nudists or looked into the lifestyle before. Recently enjoying other partners in our open marriage, we sampled activities within a swingers club. Looking for a new sexual kick, we made plans for going to a nude beach on Nude Day.

We chose Columbus Beach for its amenities and short travel distance. For most of the year, the beach is actually split into textile and clothing-optional sections, centered on a beachfront establishment called Magic Reef. Nude Day has become a three-day tradition with the entire beach and all the buildings on the shore-side of the highway designated as a naked zone. The only lawfully required clothing covered cooks and food servers.

After checking into a motel a few miles inland, we spent the early hours of our first day on the beach. In between periods of swimming, we stretched out naked on our towels and watched the nude parade along the water's edge. It was precisely that, a parade of show-offs. There were perky young gals and upstanding young men strutting back and forth. Deciding which of them were on the make was easy; choosing one (or two) to invite to our room proved difficult.

By early afternoon, we had made our way to the Beer Shack for some lunch. The quasi-bar was more of a deck under thatched palms than an enclosed shack. The cooler/storage room behind the L-shaped bar was the only walled-in area; the rest of the perimeter was a picket line of roof support posts, open to the beach in three directions.

The bar serves as a refreshment stand for sun-worshipers that dispenses only beer and soft drinks. Situated on the clothing-optional side of the demarcation, permanent signs clearly warn patrons of allowed nudity year round. As an extension of the restaurant, food ordered at the bar is delivered to the shack. During the majority of the year, the delivery service provides an opportunity for nudists to eat meals without getting dressed. We endured the longer service time caused by the large celebration crowd just for the esthetics of eating outdoors close to naked people.

We did not eat our lunch totally naked that afternoon; neither did more than half the people with us under the canopy. Freedom to be naked is one thing. Putting my naked ass on vinyl-covered barstools or wooden seats covered in sunscreen lotion, sweat, and who-knows-what fluids was an unsavory thought. I wore a beach cover-up thin enough for my areolas and pubic shadow to show through while my husband wore small, thin shorts that let everything swing as he walked.

Despite the crowd, we managed to find two seats at the short end of the bar. We had our first beers while waiting for our food. After eating delicious crab and cucumber sandwiches washed down with more beer, we relaxed with yet another beer each. With our backs to the bar, we were looking out at the sea of naked flesh roasting under the intense summer sun, competitively judging the guys and gals for our amusement. Because of my beer-buzz, I looked at every cock as a potential fuck and the possibilities caused a responsive warming in my sex.

My timing was perfect when my gaze sweeping across the crowd caught two young men rising to their feet. I studied them while they rolled up their towels. Both had impressive cocks and hairless groins. I was disappointed when I saw them conceal their johnsons under small running shorts but it availed me a chance to assess their other features. They looked to be in their early twenties and had the toned bodies of athletes.

They treated me to dueling bulge-flashes as they walked toward me, the sunlight highlighting the fabric sheen of their shorts stretched over their bouncing cocks. I watched them until they stepped into the shack's shadows and wandered out of my line of sight. I gave a little shake of my head and made a 'whew' exhale before taking a swig of my beer.

My actions elicited a chuckle from my husband. "Did you see somebody you want?"

"Two somebodies," I corrected.

"Ahhh, that explains it. You looked like you were going to fall off your stool leaning over to look around me. I was getting ready to catch you."

"Was I that bad?"

"You were devouring them with your eyes. Would you like to go find them?"

At that moment, I spotted them coming around the corner of the bar. "Don't have to..." Smiling lustfully, my gaze went right to their groins as they passed in front of me. They noticed the location of my attention and smiled back.

The two young men had decided to settle for the only empty seating, a recently vacated single stool at the end of the bar between the cooler wall and me. They pulled the stool out and stood against the bar, squeezed into the space meant for one person. I felt the forearm of the closest studly young man brush against my hip before he angled his hips to break the body contact.

I waited until after they ordered their beers, assured of their age when the bartender checked their IDs. A glance up at my husband received a reassuring nod and my marching orders, "Make your move."

I twisted around on my stool, my legs swinging between my husband and me. With deliberate aim, my knees swung beyond a one-eighty turn and bumped squarely into the crotch of the nearest young man with just enough force to cause him to flex at the waist in reaction, backing his groin away.

"I'm terribly sorry about bumping into you so hard. I'm a little tipsy. Are you okay?" Our eyes met and locked in a stare while my hand reached out in concern - landing my fingertips along a portion of his long cock. The silky fabric of his unlined shorts was whisper thin. He did not respond while my touch lingered a few seconds and then slid downward, bumping each fingertip over the ridge of his circumcised glans.

"I'm fine. It wasn't hard."

"No, you weren't," I quipped.

He probably meant the bump wasn't hard but my thoughts had remained focused on his roll of flesh. I turned away from him just then because the bartender arrived with their beers, discouraging any response by him to my take on his double entendre.

We ordered another round of beers for ourselves and while waiting for the libations to be served, I detected a hushed conversation between the two young men. I couldn't make out the words of the one closest to me because he faced away from me and he likely made an effort to keep me from hearing the subject matter. His wingman, however, was facing me. I distinctly heard him ask with an incredulous tone, "She did?" I concluded they were discussing my intimate check on the well-being of his cock. The wingman recommended further engagement, "Go for it."

When our beers arrived, I took a long sip of the ice-cold brew and gave my husband a wry smile. "I think I got his attention," I whispered.

With the intention of striking up a conversation with my barstool neighbor, I began to turn back toward him, slower and controlled this time. My closest hand was resting on the outside of my knee, making a soft landing against his groin. Because his position had changed slightly, the back of my hand pressed against his hipbone, several inches away from his cock.

I broke the ice by asking, "Are you guys enjoying the beach today?"

He had turned slightly without pulling back, maintaining firm contact with my hand until his cock pressed into the groove between my second and third fingers. His eyes stared into mine an extra second.

"We are enjoying the beach today. I am particularly enjoying the Beer Shack today."

Neither of us looked down but we were both well aware of what we were doing where our bodies were in contact. I spread my fingers open. He leaned forward, pushing the bulge of his cock between them and into my knee. I scissored my fingers closed around the sides of his cock and squeezed. His pelvis tilted back, pulling himself out of my finger-vice. We continued the frotting-groping sequence while introducing ourselves.

"I'm Sandy. This is my husband Jack."

"I'm Tony and that's Ben behind me."

My husband leaned over my shoulder to speak with my new friends. From his vantage point, he could see my fingers pinching Tony's tool. Ben stepped around to our sides so he would be included in our conversations. I saw his eyes check out my nipples, my pussy, and finally my hand working over his friend. We made small talk while Tony continued to fuck the labial-like slit between my fingers until he was sporting an obvious full erection.

My other hand set my cold beer down on the bar and reached inside his shorts to grab his dick.

Tony jumped. "Damn you hand's cold!"

"Sorry, sugar. I hope it doesn't cause any shrinkage. Friction should help warm my hand." With that, I began to slide my fingers briskly up and down.

His reaction was not one of appreciation. "Ooh... Ow... Wait, that hurts."

I didn't intend to inflict pain and my hand-action, although vigorous, should not have hurt him. "What's wrong?"

"I think it's a little sunburned."

"Oh, my, didn't you use sunscreen? Your best asset and you didn't protect it? Can you imagine if it blistered and peeled? You'd be out of commission for weeks. Lucky for you, I'm a Dermatologist. Let me have a look at it."

I slid off my barstool. My hands on his hips guided Tony to stand with his back to the bar. I squatted in front of him; Ben and Jack closing in from the sides to watch provided a bit of a privacy screen in our little corner of the shack. When I pulled his shorts down, his semi-tumescent penis sprang up, smacking me in the face. I purposely kept my head close, maintaining significant cock-to-cheek contact as I slid his garment the rest of the way down.

As I assisted him stepping out of his shorts, our movements caused his cock to rub against my face and into my hair; I could feel it stiffen and push outward. I pretended not to notice the contact but I orchestrated every move to arouse him. Putting my hands on his ass, I held his cock and balls tight against my cheek for a moment. When I lifted and straightened my head, I deliberately let his glans cross my open lips and protruding tongue.

"Your cock is noticeably warm. Definitely some inflammation there."

Tony gave a laughing exclamation. "Huh!"

"Don't laugh. Your external genitals should always be cooler than your body. I don't have a skin thermometer but my cheek could feel the warmth easily." I deliberately avoided giving a diagnostic excuse for kissing his glans.

I directed him to spread his legs so I could see more of the area around his balls. Grabbing his cock in one hand, I angled it to the side and then my other hand lifted his balls, squeezing and pressing more than medically necessary.

"I need more light to see properly."

I stood up and took my phone out of my beach bag. Using the camera light in flashlight mode, I repeated the squeezing, pulling, and prodding to check for the degree of sunburn inflammation. I was very slow and thorough with my inspection but all for his benefit. My face was actually too close to see properly but one early glance allowed proper diagnosis. Everything else was designed to excite my patient, playing to a common fetish most men have about a female doctor examining their genitals.

My husband played the perfect straight man. "What's your opinion, Doctor?"

"First degree sunburn, alright."

Tony picked-up on the role-playing. "Is that bad, Doc?"

"Mild. Not too painful in itself but sensitive to irritation." I was speaking while my face was within inches of his cock, the vibrations of my voice striking his uber-sensitive skin.

"I don't normally see male genitalia in my practice but it's skin-covered and I know the physiology of the surface." I switched from professional sounding medical practitioner to a sultry woman. "You see, the skin on your cock and balls is the thinnest on your body. All around it, too, like the pubic bone area above them. It's skin that's very sensitive to touch to make sex feel so good."

My phone made a shutter-click noise and the light blinked. "Did you just take a picture of my dick?"

"Uh-huh. It's for a colleague at work. She's an intern that needs to see more dicks. She should enjoy yours."

"Why not a video then."

"Yeah, why not." I punched around, making some beeps and boops as if starting a video but I didn't really initiate one. It was only important for Tony to think another woman was going to watch me examine his cock.

Back to medical-speak, "Centuries of humans wearing clothing has reduced the ability of the skin in the groin area to produce melanin, the stuff than makes you tan so as to block sunlight getting deep into your flesh. Shaving off your pubic hair has removed what shading that provided, too. In short, your dick should be kept where the sun don't shine. At least, use the highest SPF sunscreen you can buy when you plan to go naked outdoors."

I released his cock and it stood firmly upright, impressive in its length and girth. When I saw it twitch, I looked up at the big grin on his face. Looking again at his cock, I feigned a concerned notice and leaned in so close that the tip of my nose poked the underside of his cock. I could smell his sex scent.

Drawing back but staying close enough so I could huff my breath on his sensitive skin, I ran my thumb along the underside of his cock, stopping directly on the indentation at the top of the shaft where the glans splits. Wrapping my fingers around the shaft, I rubbed my thumb side to side, which caused Tony to take a hissing inhale.

"Is that painful when I do that?"

"Painful is not how I'd describe it."

I continued to rub and he began to squirm. "Where I'm touching you is called the frenulum. It's the most sensitive part of your penis and is important for triggering your orgasm. It would be a shame to injure those nerves with a sunburn. I guess it's still working fine."

I looked up to see him nodding agreement. Curling my fingers tighter, I rubbed harder; his eyes fluttered half-closed; his mouth contorted. When I looked at his cock again, a bubble of precum was rising out from the tip. The forefinger of my free hand collected the droplet. I mimed looking at my cover-up and for other places to wipe it off before sliding my finger into my mouth and popping it out. Both Tony and Ben gasped at my tasting his fluid.

Jack assisted the game again. "Don't you have some of your special lotion that will help him get relief?" He knew the medicated cream would bring pain relief but he was aware of the other relief that the application process could bring.

"Good idea, Sweetheart." I pulled a white plastic tube out of my beach bag. Turning to Tony as I removed the cap, I explained its purpose. "This has a prescription strength analgesic, uh, topical pain reliever, mixed with a total sun block. It will give you relief for the rest of the day."

I began a general application with my fingertips around his genitals, ending with sweeping tugs along the length of his cock. With my hands completely enveloping his balls, my thumb and forefinger massaged it into his skin. I followed with twisting strokes up his shaft and over his glans. Adequate coverage could have been achieved in twenty seconds; I spent more than ten minutes applying several coats.

Tony had found it necessary to lean back on the bar, supported on his elbows. His pelvis was tipping outward and he rose on his tiptoes each time I slowly pulled on his straining cock. His breath moaned from his lungs and his head lolled back. I could hear Ben begin to breathe heavily like a Lamaze coach.

"Tony, your cock is so beautiful. The head is getting darker. I think I'm about to get the result I want."

As I made squeezing strokes with one hand, I slid the other under his balls until my forefinger touched his perineum. I slowly pushed my hand further, scratching my nail on his skin until my finger reached and slid into his anus. Tony gasped and his hips jerked upward, his arched back straining to reach my open lips hovering low over his glans. I blew air forcibly on his glans.

"Tony," I whispered, "let it happen."

"Oh, fuck!" he cried.

I saw his glans swell and I held my open mouth an inch away. Spurts of his semen blasted across the gap and into my mouth; three, four, five spurts before they weakened. I lowered my head until my lips sealed his erupting organ, catching it all without missing a drop.

I stood up, leaving him limp and groaning. I grabbed a bar napkin and scribbled our hotel name and room number on it.

"Tony, that should hold you for the rest of the day. Come see me about nine o'clock tonight and we'll see if you need another treatment. Don't be alarmed if your penis feels numb and won't get hard for a few hours."

I turned to see Ben looking at me with expectancy in his eyes. "As long as you're here, I may as well ..." was as far as I got before he whipped his shorts off and stood there with a raging hard-on.

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