Title:
A Day At The Seaside -- An Unexpected Adventure
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Short Description:
What happens in Southend - stays in Southend.
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Location:
Southend-On-Sea -- United Kingdom.
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Tags:
Heterosexual, First time, Blow-Job, Reluctance, Non consent.
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Word Count:
7,050
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Preamble:
Hi, and thank you for choosing my story.
Please Note:
Both of the characters in this short story are over the age of eighteen. I hope you enjoy.
Hi.
I'm Macey.
If you have read many of my stories, you will have probably worked out that I don't usually go for men - it's usually girls that get me hot.
With men, I get turned off by the bold, muscular keep-fit types, but if I
do
ever go with a man, he would tend to be older. I feel that young boys don't usually have much idea about how to please a girl, and younger men often think they're doing great if they just ram it in and fuck me as hard and fast as they can. Great for a few seconds, but they often don't make it last.
Older guys always seem more gentle and caring, and more likely to give me what I want. And I love to tease and get them worked up before I give them what they want (but don't tell my girlfriend - she would go ballistic if she found out - he he).
Anyway -
There was this one time I met a guy on holiday, before I was with my current girlfriend. He was about 50ish - maybe older, but he looked really dishy. He was sitting on a bench looking out to sea and I was walking by, finishing my ice-cream. I could see he was watching me - albeit as discreetly as possible, so I walked over and sat on the bench beside him.
I had just turned eighteen at the time, and was looking to have some fun with my recently achieved adulthood.
I was dressed from head to toe in
designer distressed
shocking pink, comprising a loose fitting tee-shirt that months ago I had taken a pair of scissors to, having cropped it roughly at the bottom to leave the hem ragged and frayed, which permitted an occasional glimpse of my bare midriff above a pair of bright pink shorts that sat low on my hips, and had also been hacked a little shorter, leaving strands of pink threads hanging from the frayed legs, along with matching plimsolls and ankle socks. I had even used pink ribbons to tie my long blonde hair into my favourite pigtails.
For anyone who hasn't read my Brief History, I should point out that I have a genetic defect that caused me to stop growing normally before I reached puberty. Because of that I'm only four feet ten tall, so I imagine I must have looked quite cute.
We started talking and he said he was on holiday. I asked why he was alone and he told me he loved the holiday atmosphere at the seaside, but had to come alone now because he had lost his wife a few years ago. He sounded bitter. I said I was alone too, because my friend had gone off with a boy she just met. I asked if he would mind if I sat with him, and he agreed.
He asked me my name, and I told him, "I'm Macey. What's your name?"
"I'm Rob," he told me. "It's short for Robert, but I prefer plain Rob... or Robbie," he smiled.
He asked if I would like a drink and I said yes, so we walked over to a beach-front bar and he bought himself a beer and a cola for me. I know he must have had them put something in it, because I usually drink Bacardi and I could taste the alcohol. I had a pretty good idea what he was up to, but I went along with it 😉
We had a couple of drinks and he told me how lonely he was since his wife left him. "Oh," I said. "I thought you meant she had died."
He looked uncomfortable, but said, "No. She left me for a younger man. That's what I meant when I said I lost her. I lost her to a young beefcake guy," he added. He seemed to be seething.
I told him not to waste his worry over her. She obviously wasn't worth his love. He seemed encouraged by that, and perhaps a little surprised by my apparent insight. I decided I'd better be careful if I was going to carry the charade off properly.
He moved around to sit beside me on the bench table - what I call Teddy Bear tables (the ones with a table and seats all built together) and he put his arm around my shoulders - just protective like, and he gave me a hug and kissed my hair. It felt warming to have him hold me like that, and I felt a familiar tingle down below I really liked it.
I looked up into his eyes and smiled at him and he leaned in closer. I thought he was going to kiss me, so I looked away, then down. That's when I saw the lump in his pants.
"Oh. What's that?" I asked, feigning a naive innocence.
"Oh nothing," he smiled. "I just have something in my pocket."
"Can I see?" I asked, teasing.
"I don't think you're ready for that," he smiled, adding a kindly sort of laugh.
"Oh please?" I begged.
He paused, considering the possibility. "Maybe later," he replied.
He asked how old I was. I needed to be honest, so I told him with a bright smile, "I'm just turned eighteen."
He gave me a suspicious look, but simply smiled back, replying, "Yeah. OK."
"No. Honestly," I told him.
"OK," he repeated. "I believe you," he smiled.
We talked for a little longer and I told him I was here with my parents, but they go off to play Bingo, so they left me to do the amusement arcades with my friend, but then she went off with this boy and his friends.
He asked where my hotel was and I told him I was in a Bed & Breakfast place. I said it was a dump, and he told me his was quite nice. I told him we can't afford a posh hotel.
"So... Would you like to see where I'm staying then?" he suggested. I suspect he thought I would be scared to go with him, but I agreed. He seemed really surprised.
We walked off along the promenade for about ten minutes, during which time I reached up and took hold of his hand. He looked down at me, clearly surprised by my forwardness, but I just smiled up at him, happily.
I could almost hear his thoughts, and could see the lust in his eyes, but I just smiled and started skipping along, the way a happy child might do.
Before long, we took a turn up one of the side streets toward the residential area of the town.
"Can we watch TV when we get there?" I asked," while looking up at him and smiling suggestively.
"After," he replied.
"After what?" I asked, innocently.
He just smiled.
Eventually we came to this big old Victorian house with a sign at the front - It said ***** Guest House. We went to the back and he was looking around suspiciously as he let us in.
"Looks like there's no-one else home," he smiled, hurrying me in through the back door.
No-one saw us as we crept up to the top of the house, and he opened a door with his key.
"Come in... quickly," he told me.
He seemed in a hurry to get us inside the room, still looking around in case anymore might see us.
There were clothes and other stuff strewn all over the bed and the chairs, which he quickly gathered together and threw into a wardrobe.
"Can we watch TV now?" I asked, brightly.
"In a minute," he replied. "Would you like a drink first?" he asked.
"No thank you," I replied. "I just want to watch TV. Can we?" I asked again.
"Maybe later," he replied. "Just sit with me for a while," he suggested, taking a place on the edge of the bed.
"Can't we sit together and watch TV... can we? Please?" I asked, heading for the one armchair in the room.
"Oh, very well," he agreed. "Why don't we both sit there? You can sit on my lap," he smiled.
He took the TV remote and sat down, flicking through the channels until he found one with some cartoons playing, and as I sat on his lap, he put one arm around my waist and the other on my knee.
I'm sure he must have thought I would try to stop him, but I just leaned against him and rested my head on his chest, laughing at the cartoons.
Very soon he must have begun to feel a little bolder, because his fingertips began to caress the inside of my knee, and he kissed my hair as I snuggled up against him. Seeing that I wasn't objecting, his hand began to caress my knee, slowly, very gradually moving up my leg. Then he raised his hand to scratch his nose, putting it down again a little higher. The caressing began again, stroking the inside of my thigh. Several times he raised his hand to scratch his cheek or his chin, discretely replacing it a little higher each time, occasionally kissing my forehead too, until eventually his palm was resting close to the top of my thigh, his fingers still caressing me so very gently.
I moaned softly and parted my legs slightly, seemingly unconsciously as I whispered, "Mmmm. That feels so nice," closing my eyes as I pressed my cheek against his chest.
I wriggled myself against him as his fingertips found their way to the inside leg of my shorts, and I moaned softly, parting my legs a little wider.
Clearly encouraged by my responses, his fingertips found the very top of my thigh, inside the leg of my shorts, and he caressed the soft, tender skin of the joint, while I continued trying to watch the TV.
Very soon I found myself leaning back over the arm of the chair as his fingers aroused me more and more. I wasn't watching the TV any longer. Now I was laid out across his lap, my arms stretched high above my head pulling my tee-shirt up, exposing my midriff and navel to him. I could almost hear his thoughts as he looked down at my bare tummy and those bony hips, mentally undressing me as his fingers cautiously explored. I could tell he would have loved to just rip it all off - so near, yet so far.
"You know Maisie..." he began.
"It's Macey," I corrected him.
"Sorry. I meant Macey," he said. "You know... I find you very pretty," he told me.
"Really?" I replied, looking up and feeling flattered.
"Yes. Of course," he assured me. "You're really pretty."
"Oh... you're just saying that," I blushed.
"No. Really," he said. "But..."
'Oh. Here it comes', I thought.
"You know what I like most about pretty girls?" he said.
"No? What?"
"I like to see their lovely titties," he smiled.
"Oh," I replied, looking concerned.
"Do you think I could see
your
titties?" he asked.
"But... I don't have any titties yet," I told him, with a curious expression and a matter-of-fact tone.
"Yet?" he repeated, seeming surprised, and perhaps a little excited too.
That must have clinched it. I could feel the lump in his pants suddenly grow bigger, but I pretended not to notice.
"Please may I see your titties?" he asked again.
"I'm not sure, I told him, sounding reluctant. "My Mammy told me I shouldn't let strangers see me undressed."
"Oh. I understand. But... I'm not a stranger am I," he told me. "We're friends now, aren't we? I bought you a drink," he added.
"I don't know," I replied, sucking my finger, trying to look apprehensive, and pouting as I peered up at him.
"I did buy you a drink," he repeated.
"Two," I corrected him.
