At the Ocean: Threesome in the Sand

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Author’s note: it’s been a long time between stories. I wrote this one in a night on my phone recently. I like it and rereading a few months later makes me feel a bit horny…I’d love to hear if it works for you…

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I couldn’t say which of them I noticed first. To tell the truth I’d only ever seen them together. They were one of those couples who seemed to not only be close physically but also really good friends. I’d moved recently from the city to the coast. To a small town right on the beach. It’s famous for surfing, cycling, running, walking and yoga. Something to do with the magnificent clean ocean, pristine forests and open skies. Everyone has a dog.

I was fleeing from the city, getting away from the cluttered roads, overwhelming amount of people and the 24 hour lifestyle. For most of my twenties the city was my home and its inhabitants were my people. I loved the food, loved the cafes and I loved the bars. A bit too much. Constantly hungover, constantly stressed and always up. It was both exhausting and exhilarating. I reckon I worked in 15 different jobs, call centres, bars, cafes, wherever that would pay the rent and the bills. I moved at least once a year, mainly around the trendy inner city suburbs, into shared houses, shared rooms, with women but never by myself. I was popular enough, had a decent group of friends, all similar to me in their own way. We were close in some superficial ways but distant in terms of deeper connections. Collected some decent tatts along the way though.

Relationships came and went, always with women, usually longer than 6 months and less than a year before one of us cheated, one of us went off backpacking, one of us (her obviously) becoming a lesbian. And finally having my heart broken spectacularly, unexpectedly by a man. He was my only male partner, at least in a relationship way. I was 19 when I first had sex with another man so I knew from pretty early on that men were sexy. Different to women but hot. And that the things guys did together was particularly hot. But I’d never felt like I was falling in love. All my crushes were women, all my encounters with men fleeting. Until I met him.

He was super confident, super sexy and way out of my league. We met at a party in a warehouse. Nothing particularly different about that occasion than any other party. It was fun, music was loud, the drugs were ok and I was with my friends. It got late, I was dancing, he was dancing. I hadn’t paid him much attention actually, I was flirting with a cute girl but out of the blue I found myself dancing next to him. The beat dropped and we fell into a groove that kept going all the way back to his place. The sex was spectacular, like we were reading each other’s mind through our bodies. His cock was perfect, hard and silky. His body rough from hard work, his eyes sparkling with fun. Despite my experience it was like he took my virginity as stupid as that sounds saying it out loud.

We fucked a lot – doing things I’d never done before – lots of anal, lots of oral. He tied me up a lot. He was a climber, cut trees for a living and knew how to tie a knot. Occasionally he’d pee on me, and I loved it. Go figure hey? We’d go out to gay bars and kiss all night. We’d have threesomes where I was in the middle and loving being surrounded by male flesh. Loving the cocks and the tongues on me. But he was also cruel at times. He hated that I also liked women, and he shut me out of his life for days at a time. I wasn’t some pathetic pushover mind you – yeah he was a bit abusive but I had my own life and by that time I was finishing my studies and ready to actually start a career. I’m a nurse now – registered and all – and pretty good at it.

Anyway. To finish my story, after a pretty cool few weeks I turned up at his place one night. He was cold and cruel and actually hurt me that time. When I confronted him about it he tried to gaslight me. It was then that I knew I was done. It broke my heart, I’d fallen for him somewhere along he line, a first for me with a man. But I knew we were done. I’d just turned thirty and was ready to change my life. My twenties were gone, mostly good memories left but little else other than a degree that allowed me to go wherever I want and work wherever I wanted. No house, no kids, not even a car. A decent bicycle, a shitty motorbike and enough money for bond on a rental.

Feeling in a rut I made the move. First time living alone. Hours ride from my friends. Contract in hand for my new job at the hospital nearby. I loved it from the outset. The fresh air, being sober and straight for weeks at a time. I didn’t have the same problems with drugs and alcohol as some of my friends, who’d either gotten sober or descended into that hellish lifestyle of chasing the high. It was good to give myself a break. I worked hard, but also took time for myself. I ran serious kilometres, sat in the lineup and learnt to surf, albeit poorly compared to the locals. I bushwalked and mountain biked. I became a bit of a cliche, was obviously quite boring to my etimesgut dansöz escortlar city friends who, one by one, fell away. Despite this I wasn’t lonely, but I did miss sex. A lot. Don’t get me wrong, masturbation is one of my favourite things. I love my cock, it’s not super huge but bigger than average and it gets hard easily. I don’t get depressed easily but I think it’d get dark quickly if I lost the ability to get erections.

I masturbated a lot. At least daily, enjoying the feeling of my body, getting fitter now. My cock drips when I’m playing with it, a slick wetness that tastes clear and salty, different to semen. I’d edge myself during the day, bringing myself close but stopping and building the tension. Sometimes I’d use toys, a hard glass dildo that I’d lube up and groan as it opened me up. I always had a big orgasm like that and surprise myself how much it would make me cum.

Often I’d think of him and some of our more epic sex marathons. Or I’d fantasise about women, how they taste, how different they are to men. I always loved kissing women, loved their soft skin, breasts, slick vaginas that tasted salty and tart and melted with tongues and fingers. I loved how easy it was to slide my cock into a wet and warm pussy and hear her breath quicken and feel her body tremble. It might sound conceited but I think I was a pretty good lover, being naturally empathetic, enthusiastic and a little bit servile. I loved giving pleasure as well as getting it. I was always happy to give head and not expect it in return, didn’t mind if she didn’t cum or if I didn’t as long as we were satisfied. And I’m open minded and will try most things once and even if it’s not my kink I’d happily oblige others. Wow. I’m not as smug as all that IRL. I could at times be complacent and selfish, arrogant if I got ahead of myself. But I can be reflective as well and willing to apologise if I find myself behaving poorly.

I was celibate for those months at least with others, totally unplanned and unexpected but nonetheless really good for me. Gradually I got over him. Most of the time masturbation was enough for me and for the first time as an adult I wasn’t actually seeking a partner for sex or a relationship. Work was work, tiring and lonely at times. I made friends with colleagues ten years younger than me, or ten years older than me. I enjoyed working in a female dominated job. Nurses are practical people who do their jobs usually with care. They’re usually straightforward and genuinely are caring. Mostly anyway. But I didn’t click with anyone particularly. My background was obviously quite different being older than the young nurses on the wards, unmarried and without kids or a house I owned like most of the older ones. I didn’t drink anymore and I didn’t go out to bars because what was the point? There was no local gay scene really, and the bars and clubs down here feel so provincial and I feel old. I’d lost the love of partying.

All of this provided the context in which I began to notice them. The couple. They seemed to keep to themselves, I don’t recall seeing them talking to anyone around the small town, other than to make small talk with the checkout people at the supermarket or whatever. I’m not a stalker – where I live isn’t big – it’s large enough to not know everyone but it’s small enough to begin to recognise people. They were cute. Like really cute. She was shorter than him, but not by a lot. Probably mid-20s. Blue eyed, blonde surfy hair. Dressed for outdoor activity and practical. I found that strangely hot. She had a good body. So did he. He was more likely my age, similar height and build. Also had a beard. Fuck me, I’m describing myself. Both had friendly faces and they obviously were smitten by each other.

I began to notice that that they’d pop into my head unexpectedly and I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t fantasied about people who looked similar to one or both of them at one time or another. In my mind they were good lovers. But for the most part I didn’t have any reason to introduce myself but would smile at them if I saw them around. We often ran the same trails, and he was an epic surfer so I saw him on the beaches, often flashing past on a wave as I again found myself being humbled and tumbled.

It was in an unexpected setting that I finally met them. I’d taken to running, on the warmer days, to a nearby beach that was clothing optional. A decent 5km run to get me sweaty before stripping bare and cooling off in the cool ocean beach. There was a mixed crowd there at times. Older couples, gay guys, the occasional younger groups, either couples or a few friends. Where I’m from nudity isn’t that common. Most beaches it’s frowned upon for women to go topless. There’s not really the tradition for it unlike in Europe. But I loved the feeling of being clothes free for a while. Swimming nude is a real joy. I’m conscious of my body but not ashamed of it, despite being more a grower than a shower if you catch my drift.

This fine, warm day after I had my run, I made my way right elvankent saatlik veren escortlar down the the waters edge, stripped off and splashed into the water. I’m a solid swimmer and was probably in the water longer than I’d expected. Usually on these runs I’d be hot and bothered and until I cooled down didn’t get around to checking out the other nude beach goers. After I’d cooled off, I eventually came back to where I’d left my clothes only to find them not there. Clearly the water had come up whilst I was swimming as sand was damp and patterned by waves. I had to laugh at myself as I looked in the shallows for my running shoes. I was somewhat startled to hear a voice behind me, soft and slightly accented.

“Excuse me, are you looking for these?”

I turned to see a blonde woman holding my shoes in her outstretched hands, a cheeky smile on her face and clearly no clothes on at all. It was her.

I blushed and managed to mutter “Yes.” before she chided me “You should be more vigilant with your things.”

I grinned as I took my clothing from her. They were damp, salty and sandy.

“Thanks for saving them.”

She shook her head. “I lost a bet because of you.”

Confused, I inclined my head.

She went on, “M friend up there,” indicating him sitting on the sand, and waving at her, “said that you wouldn’t be back in time to collect them.” She shook her head, “I thought otherwise.”

“Clearly you underestimated my talent for foolishness,” I joked.

She laughed, “Obviously.”

“So what did I cost you?” I paused and then added somewhat flirtily, “And what can I do to make it up to you?”

She smiled at this. “It cost me having to be the one to get up, come down and rescue your sweaty clothes,” indicating towards my sweat stained top in my hands “and then come down to return them to you when you’d realised.”

She smiled again, “And then accept your gratitude for such a kind deed.”

It was my turn to smile at that. “Well in that case can I first apologise for my casual attitude towards my stuff, and costing you so much?”

I went on “And please accept my thanks, for all that hard work you out in”.

She grinned. “I’ll accept both your thanks and your apology, but you should come and thank my friend up there too. Really he was the one who noticed the potential problem.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

And with that she handed over my gear, my arm tingling where her hand brushed it, “After you.”

As she walked up the beach I stood still somewhat at a loss as to what was happening. She looked amazing from behind. Tanned skin, smooth, her shoulders and back toned, her legs fine and her heart shaped bum lightly dusted with sand. The gap between the cheeks shadowy and promising. I exhaled and whispered “Rightoh then,” to myself, “whats next?”

I could feel his gaze on us both as we walked the short distance up the beach to where he was lying. He was sitting cross legged, naked accept for a floppy hat. I’d be lying if I didn’t quickly glance at his crotch. He had a nice cock, soft and fairly big. Bigger than mine, particularly after my dip in the cool waters. I could afford only a glance without appearing to be a total perve so my eyes caught his and we smiled in greeting. He indicated to sit, extended his hand. I gripped it briefly, the touch pleasant before sitting on the warm dry sand beside him. She sat too, gracefully lowering herself to a lying position, shoulders propped up against his taut stomach, legs outstretched. I couldn’t help myself and stared openly for a second or two at her taut breasts and the blonde hair between her legs. I could get myself in trouble here I acknowledged to myself.

“I believe a thanks is in order,” I start. “I did win you a bet after all.”

Cocky a bit, but thankfully they both laughed.

Having broken the ice, I introduced myself. We laughed as we shook hands and they told me their names, “Sally…Sal” and “Rick.” I later found out that they were both shortened from unpronounceable Icelandic names. I’d figured that they were European of some descent based on their accent, perhaps Swedish or Norwegian though experience said you didn’t want to make assumptions as the Swedes and Norwegians don’t always see eye to eye. Anyway, Icelandic was even better. I’d always thought Iceland was super cool. They’d been travelling for years, now settled here for a while as they’d fallen in love with the area. Immediate I felt at ease with them.

That first afternoon together was amazing. We flirted and laughed, and I was flattered at both of their attention. I was conscious of being naked but not self conscious and they both seemed so at ease. They were genuinely beautiful, fit and sensual and obviously sexual but in an understated way. And they were both really funny, and kind. A killer combination for me. I was smitten before I knew it.

As we chatted and laughed I noticed that they were very tactile. They touched all the time and I found it endearing that they would touch me when telling stories ankara azeri escortlar or to brush sand or flies away. It was nice to have touch like that after so long. As a nurse I was always touching people, often in very close and intimate ways, but obviously in the context of the care relationship and utterly professional. This touch was intimate in a sensual way, and I found myself distracted by thoughts of deeper intimacy. I was having problems avoiding the obvious issue of getting an inappropriate erection. Thankfully they seemed oblivious or at least gracefully ignored my dilemma. The occasional run down to the water for a splash helped in that department. The cold water provided a shock and the blood supply quickly lessened to my relief.

There was something in watching them in the water together that was erotic and gave a certain edge to jumping through the waves or floating about. I get slick precum when I’m aroused so having a swim gave me an opportunity to clean up and avoid being seen as the perve that I am.

I was cautious at first, to give them space to themselves. Occasionally I’d run down to the water by myself or let them go together without me. During those times I surreptitiously watched them play and felt myself get hard, my cock twitching as I watched their wet bodies at play. They’d hold hands in the water and laugh as the waves washed over them and I’d melt a little. I’m a big softie sometimes.

It was later that afternoon that he followed me down to cool off. Until then it had been both of them, or just me alone. I had just surfaced after diving under and shook the water from my eyes. He was standing near to me, just about to dive into the next wave. I watched as he gracefully dove forward, his body glistening, muscles taut, hairy on his chest and around his cock. His arse was hairy too I noted before he slid under. Fuck me was he hot. He was more toned than me. Like I said he was a spectacular surfer and it showed. Surfers bodies are probably the hottest in the world. Toned but not ridiculously so, like weightlifters. Every muscle gets worked in big surf and they must have serious stamina to surf at his level. The next wave came through and we came up next to each other.

He glanced sideways at me, through his wet fringe.

“We like you, you know?” he asked.

Startled, I was unsure how to respond, so I blushed instead.

“Sorry if I’m being too direct, maybe it’s an Icelandic thing?”

“Maybe”, I said with a smile. “I like you guys too. Honestly.”

“We usually keep to ourselves,” he paused as a wave rolled through. “But today has been fun, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I could only agree, “It’s been fun.”

I wondered where this was going.

He came closer to me, and put his head nearer to mine. I was acutely aware of his presence, his body touching mine. For a moment I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he put his arm around me and dragged me under the water.

I came up coughing and launched myself at him, laughing, and grabbed him around the waist, toppling us into the water. Fuck it was good to just play with someone. We tumbled and splashed in the water, hysterical with laughter. I admit it was insanely hot, and would purposefully allow myself to be be hugged so I could feel his cock against me. It was even hotter to feel it harden and grow in size. Clearly this had gone from simple playfulness to something else. I felt his hand grab my cock under the water as we rolled about. I allowed my hands to stroke his chest and down his hard stomach. A glittering wave broke over us and we spun under the water. When we surfaced she was there upon us, throwing herself at a run into the two of us as we struggled to stand, bowling us both over and laughing maniacally.

Playfully, I grabbed her once I regained my feet and lifted her over my shoulder. She squealed and slapped my bum hard as I fireman held her. Whack. I probably deserved that. I dropped her then and when she stood she kissed me. She was salty and wet. Her tongue was soft and her lips cool from the water. My eyes were closed as we kissed, tongues gently flicking so I didn’t see him come to us and was caught by surprise as I felt his hand on the back of my neck as I kissed his partner. My cock twitched as I felt him push against us both. It had been a long time but my body knew how to respond. She pulled away and he kissed me, his mouth harder, wider than hers, his beard soft against mine. She had her hand on my penis, her breasts pushed tightly against our bodies. I was fully erect by then, and I remember feeling secretly pleased that it was surprisingly big, given that it’s shrunken size in the cold water. Another wave hit us, sending us flying.

I was aware of the public nature of the beach and felt the eyes of others on us as we walked together from the water, the two of us men half hard still, dripping with water. I looked at them both in the afternoon sun and fell head over heels in love.

They offered me a ride home, joking that it’d be cruel to make me run home in my wet clothes. I was still uncertain what they wanted, I can be self doubting at times. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t have been shattered if they’d taken me back to my house. But that wasn’t even discussed. We wrapped ourselves in towels, and they held my hand as we walked to the car park. It was possibly the sweetest thing that had ever happened to me.

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