Men At The Beach

Naked young men splashed in the surf and scampered along the beach. Others lay on the sand, tanning their bare bodies or coupling in the sun and wind. I strolled to Christopher's favorite spot, near the rocks, and found him there, lying on his back, his lithe body squirming under the penetrating thrusts of a crew-cut blond almost as muscular as me. I knelt beside the pair, dropped my towel and tanning lotion, and tousled Chris's curly hair in greeting. "Having fun?"

"He is," Chris said, tightening his legs around the burr-headed blond's waist, "and I'm having fun turning him on with my hunky self." Chris always meant exactly what he said, but he said it with a grin that made it hard to take him seriously. "Tom, this is Eric. He's a real hard-driving stud; you ought to try him sometime."

Without missing a stroke, Eric looked up, said, "Hi. This guy always talk like that?"

I laughed, then said, "Sometimes he starts telling jokes when you're getting close. Awful jokes."

"Yeah?" Eric accelerated his stroke; in a few moments he climaxed; then sat up, panting; and carefully pulled out his gleaming, still-hard prong.

We sat quietly for a minute enjoying the sun and sea breeze and the warm sand under us. Eric glanced at Chris; Chris nodded. Eric stretched himself out on Chris's legs and slowly took Chris's rock-hard prong into his mouth.

"Tom," Chris said, reaching out to touch my stiffening prong, "I'd like for you to do me a favor."

"You know I'd do anything for you, so shoot," I said happily as my shaft hardened.

Chris suddenly looked serious, which was completely out of character for him. "No, you mustn't do it if you don't want to."

"This is something new," I said, interested. "Or is this a new approach?"

"Tom," Chris said firmly, "I think you know me too well to think that."

I shrugged my shoulders.

"There's a young guy sitting alone on the other side of those rocks. I don't know him, but I've been watching him for some time now. He's not sure of himself -- he's not like you and me and Eric. I think he needs a push. You know what I mean, Tom."

"Yes, I know." My natural greed made me ask, "And afterwards?"

Chris smiled. "Of course. Meanwhile . . ." He reached down and stroked the shoulders of the blond sucking hungrily on Chris's prong.

I bent, tousled Chris's hair again, gathered my towel and lotion bottle, and straightened up.

"Later," Chris said.

"Bye," I said, and walked toward the rocks.

Part 2

The young man was sitting alone, motionless, staring out to sea. His hair was mouse-colored, his expression blank. When I stopped beside him, he looked up, then out to sea again.

"Mind?" I asked.

"Uh -- no, no; go ahead." He patted the sand; I spread my towel and sat down beside him; together, we watched the sea.

After a dozen minutes or so, I caught him stealing a glance at me. He blushed; I grinned reassuringly. "I don't mind -- I kinda like people admiring my build."

"Yeah?"

"Sure." I turned to face him, expanded my chest and flexed my arms. "How's this?" I shifted to my knees, put both hands behind my bare butt, and tensed my pectorals. "Or this?" I put my hands on my hips, fingers casually pointing toward my stiffening cock, and sucked in my stomach.

"You look -- great."

"Thanks. Like I said, getting admired really turns me on." I grinned, and a comfortable flush spread through my body. I reached out with my right hand, took his left, and gently pulled his hand to my chest. "Come on -- feel."

And he did, gingerly at first, but with growing eagerness. His hands roamed over my chest, shoulders, sides, and on down to my thighs -- carefully avoiding my balls and my now-hard prong -- while his own prong erected to a quivering stand.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Uh . . ." He dropped his hands, looked down at his own rigid prong.

"Okay, then."

I pushed him back onto the sand, lowered my chest onto his thighs, and closed my mouth on the tip of his shaft. I sucked, felt his muscles go taut, then released his shaft and looked up to meet his anxious gaze. "Just relax and make it last -- okay?"

He licked his lips and nodded wordlessly. I took his glans again, went slowly down on him, and began to work on his prong with lips and tongue. After a couple of strokes, he began to relax; after a dozen more, his muscles slowly tighened up again.

I raised my head. "Getting close?"

"Y-yeah."

"Cool down a couple of minutes, then."

He nodded, took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. When he'd caught his breath, I started to work on him again. The next time I paused, he reached for my rod.

"Let me . . ."

"Sure," I said, lying back on the sand.

He pounced, took me down to the hilt in a single gulp.

"Hey! Not so fast," I growled.

He pulled back, looked up. "But . . . ?"

"Your teeth."

"Oh -- sorry." He took me more carefully this time, awkward at first, but learning fast as he sucked with almost desperate hunger at my prong.

When he had drawn me to the brink of an eruption, I eased him off and took his shaft into my mouth again. We swapped places twice more -- shorter sessions each time -- until he could hold back no longer and pumped his load down my throat.

"Wow!" he gasped, lay breathing hard for a few moments, then eased himself onto my legs, sucked my glans into his mouth, and slowly went down on me to the hilt. This time, he worked slowly, carefully, barely grazing my shaft with his teeth; this time, he took me all the way, and sucked me dry.

Part 3

Later, after a long nap in the sun, I asked him, "First time?"

"Was it -- was I that obvious? But -- yeah, it was."

"Looks like you're a quick re-charge, too." I touched his stiffening prong.

"Just -- remembering." He licked his lips slowly, glanced at my own half-erect shaft. "How 'bout -- you know -- another round?"

"Sure -- but --" I rolled up to my knees, reached for the bottle of lotion. "How 'bout something different this time?"

"Okay, but . . ."

"Don't worry," I said, as I lubricated my shaft. "It'll fit."

"Yeah? I hope so." He lay back, raised his legs, and spread his thighs.

"You sure this your first time?" I asked, as I arched my body over his and probed with my glans.

"I've been watching -- ooof! -- what guys are doing on the beach, so -- aaah! You in?"

"Just the head. Here comes the rest."

"Feels bigger than it looks, and it looks pretty damn big already -- aah! You hit something."

I pulled back an inch, slid in again. "There?"

"Yeah."

"Just remember that spot when you go poking around inside me," I said.

"Inside you? Hey, wow!"

"How 'bout you? Still okay?" I asked, beginning a slow, deep stroke.

He nodded wordlessly, squirming up against each penetrating thrust of my prong. His hands roamed across my back, then on down to my hips, urging me deeper into his clutching passage.

This time, there were no interruptions: I pumped steadily, conscious of the warm, willing body under mine, conscious of the slowly growing pressure down in the base of my thrusting shaft. This time, we just let our bodies take their own time . . . until I neared the peak.

"Close?" he asked.

"Close," I sighed.

"I can -- you know -- feel you getting -- stirred up: muscles tight, pumping faster, going deeper -- yeah! You're turning me on, yeah!"

"Don't -- get -- too -- hot," I panted. "Not -- until --" And suddenly I was coming, unloading deep in his naked, squirming body; squirting jet after jet of thick sperm into the young man impaled on my spike.

Spent, I relaxed with a sigh, lay catching my breath, then straightened my arms to lift my head and shoulders, and looked down. "Well?"

"Wow! It's -- it takes some getting used to but -- yeah, it's -- wow," he sighed. He tightened himself around my shaft, relaxed, and asked, "Still hard?"

"You're so tight . . . there." I slowly eased my prong out, rolled on my back, and relaxed. After a few moments, I sensed movement. I raised my head and saw the young man carefully lubricating his own hard shaft.

"Are you ready?" he asked, a new confidence in his voice.

"Sure, stud." I spread my thighs wide, watched as he knelt between them. I raised my legs, knees bent; he steadied his shaft with his right hand, lifted my balls with his left, and found the opening into my hips with his glans. "Take it easy when you first go into me," I warned, as he eased himself in. "After that, once you're all the way, then I'm all yours, and . . ."

"Y-yeah." His face was tense, then slowly relaxed into a happy grin as his glans snapped through the ring of muscle that guarded the way in. "Now I know I'm in love." Inch by slow, cautious inch, he slid himself into me.

When I felt his balls touch my butt, I tightened myself around the base of his shaft, relaxed, then said, "Ride me, kid; ride me hard!"

And he did -- hitting me just right at the bottom of almost every stroke. Twice, he pulled back too far, but quickly found his target and slid in deep again.

"I think -- I know -- why you -- sucked me off -- first," he panted.

"Yeah?"

"If I -- did this -- first," he panted, "I'd have -- gone off -- like a -- firecracker -- on the first -- fucking -- stroke -- just -- half-way -- in."

"That hot?"

"Was then."

"Now?" I asked. "Getting close?"

He shook his head, but he was pumping harder and harder -- so hard that my own shaft was stiffening up again. "Just -- just enjoying -- the -- ride. Not -- trying -- just -- riding -- along." Suddenly, he focused his eyes on mine and -- still thrusting steadily -- asked, "Is that okay?"

"Sure -- why?"

"I didn't want to --"

"-- take too long? Look, kid: I like getting fucked, I'm used to getting a shaft rammed up my butt, and you're going in just right." I twitched my own hard prong, twitched it again. "Feel that?"

He straightened his arms, raising his chest and shoulders, then looked down between our torsos and licked his lips. "Yeah; I can see it too," he sighed, and dropped his chest onto mine again. "You ready for another round already?"

"Just hard, not that ready. And your ass needs a couple days' rest after being pronged the first time. But after that . . ."

"After that -- for sure," he said, speeding his stroke, then gradually slowing to a stop. "For fucking sure."

We lay, bodies linked by his shaft, for long minutes. "Did you . . . ?" I asked

"Yep."

"I thought your prong felt awfully slippery all of a sudden."

He grinned, licked his lips, and nodded. "Being here -- being inside you, feeling your muscles under me -- I'm still turned on, but . . ."

"I know, kid; I know." I reached up, pulled his head down, and kissed him. "And -- I'm in love too."

Part 4

A few days later, I found Chris -- alone this time -- at his favorite spot, near the rocks.

"How did it go?" he asked, his prong stiffening as I stretched myself out on the sand beside him.

"I got him going, all right," I said, feeling my own prong stiffen. "Only . . ."

"Only . . . what?"

"I feel like I turned a tiger onto those studs," I said, looking back at the naked young men splashing in the surf and scampering along the beach.

"A tiger? That young guy? But --"

"Here he is now," I said, catching sight of the young man with the mouse-colored hair.

"Eric said I'd find you here," the young man said. His expression was alert and eager, his shaft up and hard.

"Eric?" I asked.

"Blond stud with a crew-cut; real good build, almost as good as yours. He -- we -- I think I kinda wore him out, yesterday, and . . ."

"And here you are." I glanced at Chris. "That was your idea."

"But you're the one who . . ." Chris licked his lips slowly. "Okay, we're both responsible."

"So we've got to do something about him before he wears out everybody else on the beach, right?"

"There's two of us, and just one of him, so . . . so how about sandwiches, with him in the middle, and the two of us taking turns, top and bottom?"

The kid, who had been looking more and more worried, relaxed with an eager grin. I grinned back at him, looked at Chris, and asked, "You want to be on top this round?"

Chris nodded. I handed the kid the lotion bottle, then stretched out on the blanket and rolled onto my back. The kid took the lotion, quickly greased himself, then Chris. I spread my legs, raised my knees. The kid climbed aboard, entered me with a careful thrust -- he was learning fast -- then looked back over his shoulder, watching Chris mount and enter. I could tell when Chris slid his prong in: the kid squirmed and his muscles went tight, but then his face relaxed into a happy grin and his hips started pumping as he said, "Now I'm in love with both you guys!"

Chris was grinning too, looking down over the kid's shoulder at me, and I was grinning up at those two naked studs -- the kid, going deep into me with every stroke; and Chris, who was fucking the kid, and the kid squirming every time Chris hit bottom. And all the time I was thinking what it'll be like later on, when I get to be in the middle -- and that really turned me on.

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written by falkon