Surfer Dude and Beach Babe

Contains male-on-male sex

It had been a relaxing but uneventful vacation. Most of the small resort's guests had departed after New Year's Day and only a handful remained. There was a conspicuous dearth of talent, with the exception of a few sun-kissed honeys vacationing with their families and perhaps three or four cute couples on a holiday getaway. One of these couples had attracted my attention.

He was an Adonis. Sandy-haired and well over six foot, he was broad-shouldered and muscular with long, lean legs. Deeply tanned, he had a ready grin, and spoke with a SoCal accent. I mentally christened him Surfer Dude. She was in the same league. Evenly tanned, she had long, straw-blond hair with platinum highlights, and sparkling blue eyes. She had a petite frame, an impossibly skinny waist, and a tiny bubble butt - the combination of these belying the too-perky D-cups that strained against her string bikini top. She was a model of artificial perfection. I called her Beach Babe.

I had passed Surfer Dude and Beach Babe several times by the pool or on the beach, and had sat across from them at the restaurant during breakfast. She would make eye contact, smile coyly, and look away. He would raise his eyebrows and grin that easy grin. On one occasion, passing them on the beach, I turned my head to check them out only to find that they both had done the same. We all laughed and continued on our way. Was it my optimistic imagination or were they flirting with me?

That afternoon, I was laying by the pool, leafing through a magazine, my 'tropical paradise' playlist piping through my earbuds, when Beach Babe and Surfer Dude took the beach chairs next to me. They were giggling and whispering, and then began to tickle each other; behavior that would otherwise be annoying if they weren't so fucking attractive. I pretended to ignore them, but my sunglasses hid sidelong glances at the swell of her silicone breasts, the curve of her tiny ass in her denim cutoffs, and, with the right movement, the outline of the impressive member in his swim shorts. I felt sure I was imagining it, but were they also casting furtive glances at me?

After several minutes of playfulness, the couple abruptly rose from their beach chairs and ran - almost skipped - in the direction of the changing rooms, Surfer Dude leading Beach Babe by the hand. I decided to follow them. I knew it only happened in bad erotica, but what if they had gone somewhere to have sex? I gave it a minute or so, then casually strolled after them.

The changing rooms were built into the resort complex and were clean, comfortable, and air-conditioned. I opened the door to the men's, stepped inside, and closed the door behind me. I found myself in a chamber surrounded on three sides by lockers and on the fourth by a row of shower stalls. An opening in the opposite wall led to bathrooms beyond. The central chamber featured a large, flat wooden slat bench for placing towels, clothes, and bags as guests got changed.

From one of the shower stalls, I heard a feminine voice. "Oh, yeah, baby ... like that. Yeah ... like that ... like that!" Let's hear it for bad erotica, I thought.

To one side of the door was a utility closet. Thinking ahead, I ransacked it until I found what I had hoped to: a yellow sign saying 'Closed for servicing. Please use alternative rooms.' Opening the door a fraction, I hung the sign on the doorknob, and closed it shut.

I crept in bare feet towards the shower stall. The door was closed, but had an eight inch gap at the bottom and a larger one at the top, a little above my height. Flung over the top of the door was a pair of denim cutoffs. Crouching down to the floor, I lay on my side and peered beneath the door. I couldn't see much, but behind the door, I could make out Surfer Dude on his knees with his back to me. In front and to either side of him, and pointing towards me, were Beach Babe's feet in kitten-heeled sandals.

I silently got to my feet and rose on tiptoes to peer over the door. Beach Babe was standing, leaning against the tiled wall opposite, feet apart, knees slightly bent. With eyes closed, her hands grasped the showerhead jutting from the wall above her head. Surfer Dude was on his knees facing her, sucking ... her cock! Wet, slurping sounds accompanied her encouragements; "Yeah, baby ... like that. Suck me, baby ... yeeeaaah ..."

It took all my will not to blurt out "Jesus!", but my surprise was a very happy one. I had developed an appreciation for t-girls later in life, often masturbating to shemale porn, and fantasizing about having sex with them. To me, as a bi guy, they represented the best of both worlds: all the things that made women different and sexy ... plus a cock. The erection in my swim shorts only got harder.

Beach Babe opened her eyes and immediately saw me. She smiled. "Baby. We have company."

Surfer Dude released her cock with a sloppy, popping sound and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, brah! Join the party!"

Beach Babe stepped around him towards the door, her pretty, pink, six-inch cock hard against her flat stomach. She pushed the door open and took my hand. Heels clicking on the hard floor, she led me to the edge of the wooden slat bench. Taking my shoulders in her hands, she turned me to face the bench, then patted them as if to say "stay there". She took a couple of clean beach towels from a nearby rack and flung them over the corner of the bench. A quick tug and her string bikini popped off her chest, revealing round, pink nipples atop breasts that defied gravity. She pulled the bikini over her head and let it drop to the floor. Retrieving a small bottle from her beach bag, she tossed it to me, and I caught it in one hand. Baby oil. She then lay down across the towel-covered corner of the bench; her ass on the edge next to me, her neck against the edge adjacent. Hooking smooth ankles over my shoulders, she raised her head and looked me in the eyes. "Fuck me," she said before dropping her head back over the edge of the bench.

Surfer Dude had followed behind her and now stood next to her head. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, he pushed his shorts off his hips and they dropped to his flip-flops below. This time, I couldn't hold my tongue. "Jesus!" I exclaimed.

His cock was enormous. Thick, veiny, and brown, it was perfectly proportioned, just on a much large scale. Beach Babe craned her neck over the edge of the bench and opened her mouth wide. I watched in awe as Surfer Dude fed her his semi-hard cock. She easily accommodated his expanding member in her throat, and her lips inched along his shaft as she took him deeper.

I poured a little baby oil on her perineum and watched it drip down to her perfect pink asshole. Pushing my own shorts off my hips, I smeared a little more oil over the tip of my cock and positioned it between the buttocks of her tiny ass. On my first push, I penetrated a good couple of inches; on my second, I was balls deep. Clearly, this was not her first rodeo, no doubt accustomed to Surfer Dude's monster cock. Beach Babe's ass felt like a sweet, tight pussy. I had a brief urge to cradle this fragile-looking girl in my arms as if it were her first time. Then I reminded myself that I was fucking the asshole of someone who was born a man.

My thrusts intensified and my pubis slapped against her small, hairless scrotum. If this was painful, she gave nothing away, except soft "mmm-mmm-mmm" sounds as Surfer Dude rocked back and forth inside her mouth. Letting her left ankle slip off my shoulder, I took her cute little semi-hard-on between my thumb and fingertips and stroked it.

There was a clatter as a sandal fell from the foot still hooked over my shoulder. I began to feel my orgasm building, a spark of excitement originating somewhere in my core, then manifesting as a pleasurable pressure deep within my balls. I pulled out of her ass before ejaculating a thick cord of cum over her shaft and balls. Gripping my cock at the base, I squeezed out a second, then a third spurt on her sac.

"Nice one, brah!" Surfer Dude raised his palm to high-five me. Of course. I ironically returned it.

Surfer Dude slid out of Beach Babe's mouth and she swung her legs to the floor. "Your turn, honey," she said, smiling at me, and gesturing to the bench. I nervously sat on the towels at the edge of the bench, spread my legs, and laid back. I hoped of course that Beach Babe might fuck me with her pretty six-inch dick. That hope died as Surfer Dude took his place between my knees, holding his ten-inch monster. Beach Babe sat on the bench behind my head, facing me, her legs wide as she began to stroke her cock.

With a lump in my throat, I watched Surfer Dude squirt a generous quantity of baby oil on to his cock, taking his time to fully coat his shaft. Nestling his thick glans in the cleft of my buttocks, he gripped the backs of my knees in each of his strong hands. With a grin, he pushed forward at the same time as he pulled me into him. My face contorted in pain, and I clawed for a towel, clamping it over my mouth to muffle a scream that trailed off into a gargle. This was by far the biggest thing I'd ever had inside me.

I wish I could say that the pain let up as he fucked me. It didn't. But the agony was exquisite because it was so fucking dirty. Here I was, being impaled by a bronzed demigod in a public changing room, while his gorgeous transsexual girlfriend stroked herself inches from my head, using my cum as a lubricant. Deliciously filthy.

With an almost inaudible "Uh", Beach Babe came, a small string of stickiness spattering on my forehead and right eye. I blinked rapidly as my eyes watered. I was now stinging at both ends in very different ways.

Surfer Dude's breathing became shallower, his painful thrusts more energetic. "WHOOOAH!" he roared as his orgasm exploded deep in my raw asshole. It felt like a fire hose had been turned on inside me, and all I could do was whimper into the towel.

I've never felt more relieved than in the moment that Surfer Dude slid out of me, my devastated sphincter puckering mercifully behind him. "Dude! That was sick!" he said as he pulled up his shorts.

I wiped cum from my eye before handing the towel to Beach Babe, who cleaned off her cock. She hopped off the bench and retrieved her clothes, shimmying into her denim shorts and pulling her bikini top tight over her straining tits. "See you round!" she said as the couple headed for the door.

I dragged yet another towel over my head and breathed into it deeply. I lay on that bench for some time as Surfer Dude's seed seeped from my ravaged hole. Eventually, I summoned the strength to rise from the bench and limp into a shower stall. Hot water sprayed my face as I stood beneath the showerhead, the high pressure scouring my body of sex. I'd paid quite a price for my first t-girl and I wondered if I would walk properly again before my vacation ended.