On the Beach

I couldn't hold back any longer. First a few drops of semen fell from my twitching cock. Then a long jet of cum shot out and splashed against her shoulder. She released her grip on the walker's head and fell back onto the towel just as two more blasts of cum pumped out of me in quick succession, leaving thick stripes of sperm across her face.

I stumbled forward on my knees as more semen shot onto her arms and into her hair. But she paid no attention. She was grinding her hips against the walker's thrusts as he filled her with his sperm. They were both groaning and grunting in raw pleasure.

After a few more moments, it was over. The walker remained between my wife's thighs, his shoulders and back heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Claudia lay panting beneath him, eyes still closed, chest and face flushed, my semen dripping off her cheek and into the hair above her ear.

I fell back onto the sand. I was in a state of shock. What had we just done? I panicked for a second, thinking this would be the end of our marriage.

I looked up and down the beach, but there was still not a soul to be seen. Who would by the first to speak, and what would they say, I thought. Just then, the walker lifted his head and looked around. He slowly pulled himself out of my wife and sat back on his haunches. He ran his hand once through his dark hair. His long cock fell limply against his thigh, glistening in the fading sunlight.

Then he stood up, got dressed and, without looking at either one of us or saying a word, walked away.

After a few moments, my wife turned to me. I tried to smile. "Well," I said. "That was ... something."

She grinned. "Yes, it was." She sat up and put on her bikini top. "That was crazy," she said, as she slid the bottoms up over her bum. She glanced over at me and lifted her eyebrows. "And it was fun."

I smiled, for real this time. "Yeah, it was really fun."

We collected our stuff and made our way back to the hotel. We spent the rest of the vacation indoors. We wondered whether the walker was a guest there but we never saw him again. We spent a lot of time talking about our little escapade and how it had happened, whether we would do it again.

It seemed like a dream. And every time we talked about it, we ended up in bed ... or on the floor, on the balcony, in the bathroom. We were like horny teenagers again.

Then we went home and back to our normal lives. That was three years ago. We still talk about it but we've never repeated it. It would be easy, if we wanted to. We still pretend to do it, sometimes.

Who knows, maybe one day we will.