It was early in my week at a clothing-optional ocean resort in the Caribbean. My boyfriend and I had planned the trip, but when I caught him cheating on me last month, the vacation became a solo venture.
I was lying naked on a chaise lounge in the late afternoon and there were only a few people left on the beach. I looked up from my book and saw a guy walking toward me. He was about my age, early thirties, had short, dark, curly hair, and a nice, mocha-colored body. To my dismay, he was wearing a Speedo bathing suit; to my delight, his package was clearly visible and quite impressive.
We smiled at each other, as he stopped a few chairs down from me. I tried not to gawk as he hooked his thumbs in the waist of his Speedo and pulled the bikini off. His cock was uncircumcised, soft, three or four inches long, and very thick. His balls were large and hung low in his rather large scrotum. I took in all of this in the few seconds I allowed myself, before I pretended to return to my book.
I hadn't had sex in more than a month. To be honest, it was the last thing from my mind, after discovering my boyfriend's infidelity. But the hot Caribbean sun and all the naked flesh at the resort apparently had revived my libido. There was no doubt about it: I was horny.
I had an overwhelming desire to touch my clitoris. Positioning my book in such a way I though it was screening my movements, I cupped one hand over my crotch. Not surprisingly, I was soaking wet. I stroked my clit a few times, then glanced surreptitiously to my left. The guy was looking right at me and smiling! He knew exactly what I was doing!
I grinned self-consciously and, despite the heat of the day, felt myself blush several shades deeper red. Without a word, he stood, picked up his beach chair, and moved it in front of mine. When he sat back down, we were facing each other. The sun was low in the sky, it was after 6 o'clock, and we now were the only two people on the beach.
He lay back on the lounge chair, bent his knees, spread his legs slightly, and cupped his balls in his hand. He squeezed gently, then began moving his hand up and down the shaft of his penis. The loose foreskin moved with his hand, exposing the head of his penis with every downward stroke.
He looked at me and raised his eyebrows, as if to ask, "Are you going to play?" In response, I put down my book (which obviously hadn't deceived him, anyway), and assumed the same position as he: knees bent, legs spread. I began rubbing my palm in my crotch, my middle finger in my slit, and stroking my clit on each upward stroke.
As we watched each other masturbate, his cock began to grow even thicker and to lengthen considerably. In a few minutes, the foreskin no longer covered the tip, even on the upstroke. His penis looked huge, but I wasn't sure whether it really was unusually large, or whether my intense passion was endowing it with additional inches.
I was on fire. The eroticism of watching this naked hunk playing with himself right in front of me had me on the brink of an orgasm. It was all I could do not to climb on top of him and ram that thing deep inside me.
Suddenly, he stood up. His cock was so hard, it pointed well above the horizontal. It also had a slight upward curve near its tip, making it seem to me even more exotic. He turned and started walking toward the water, motioning me to follow.
When I stood, my legs were rubbery, and I walked unsteadily behind him, watching the sway of his smooth, tight, high ass. He waded a few yards into the warm, gentle surf, before submersing himself in it. When he surfaced, he again stood, the water lapping at his nipples.
I swam out to him and stood a few feet away. I was an athlete in college and still am in pretty good shape. I work out regularly and so far am holding my own in the war with gravity. He was an inch or two taller than my 5-foot-8 height, and had the smooth muscles of someone who comes by them naturally.
I became aware that the cooler water on my fevered body, and my extreme arousal, had caused my always-prominent nipples to protrude from my breasts like a pair of erasers. Thinking about them made them stiffen even more. Looking down through the crystal-clear water, I saw his cock had softened, somewhat, but still was quite long and impressively thick. He spoke:
