The Beach House

We'd been married for two years. Settling into a new city and, after my husband completed grad school, a new job for him. I'd worked while he went to school for the past two years, so I was taking a break now for at least the coming summer. As it happened my aunt owned a beach house 70 miles from our new city. She spent little time there so usually rented it out. But the last tenants fairly trashed the place.

She was having contractors in, on and off for most of the summer, to set things to right. She asked us if we'd like to stay there and oversee the work until our apartment was ready. Of course, we both love the beach and jumped at the chance. Hubby had to be into work the first three days of the week, but the rest of the time we'd be mostly free to enjoy the shore.

We moved in at the beginning of June. It was still cool but the days were getting warmer and we were happy to be away from the stress of his grad work and my former job. He did have to spend a lot of Thursdays and Fridays working from his laptop. Still, it was pretty much a vacation. I often lay on the beach in either the mornings or afternoons, lazing and listening to the surf. It was not at all crowded yet on weekdays, so I usually had the beach to myself.

On a Monday morning, about a week after we moved in, the first of the contractors showed up. No sense in hanging around, so I was headed for the beach. I knew the workers were coming so I'd covered my rather skimpy bikini with a long beach robe well before they were due. I'm not exactly SI Swimsuit Issue material -- though I'm 5'3" and 110 lbs with smallish but high, firm breasts and (I'm often told) very nice legs -- but you know how guys are.

It was a particularly bright, sunny day. Outside of a middle-aged woman walking her dog, I was alone until about 11:00. A tanned blond man came jogging down the surf line. At first, I suppose because of his tan and very blond hair, I thought he might be a lifeguard. But the trunks he was wearing didn't appear regulation and the guards were stationed a good half mile up the beach. He was medium height and well-muscled, probably about my age. I could see he was thoroughly checking me out as he went by. I lay back and enjoyed the sun.

Maybe fifteen minutes later I sat reapplying sunscreen when I glanced up and saw the jogger returning. When he was just opposite where I was sitting he slowed to a walk and smiled at me. I smiled back without really intending to invite him over. He walked up to me anyway, "Do you mind if I stop for a minute?"

"No," I replied. "That's fine." Okay... I was 24 years old so, naturally, I'd had plenty of men try to pick me up. Still, I was fairly recently married and quite an uptight young woman. I was a bit leery of being alone with a good-looking stranger on a deserted beach, wearing very little. But he was polite, well-spoken and not too obvious about looking at my chest.

We talked easily for twenty minutes or so. I asked him if he was staying nearby. "Yes, with some friends, for just a few days." I was suitably vague about whether I was staying nearby. "Well," he said finally, "I should be getting back. I run most mornings. Maybe I'll see you here again." I occurred to me that I should decide right then and there to skip the beach for a few days.

Let me say right up front that I loved my husband - and still do -- but I was struggling with my sexuality at that point. I don't mean about being gay or bi or anything. It was more that I was struggling with my lack of sexuality. I'd had the usual early teen crushes but I'd never been very curious about the actual sex act and was in no hurry to lose my virginity or broaden my experience. I didn't know why that was. I knew my husband was confused and disappointed that sex just didn't interest me much. It wasn't that he didn't turn me on because he did. I loved kissing and fondling and all that. I thought my husband believed I was afraid of sex, and he may have been right. Certainly, I'd never cheated and never intended to.

For whatever reason, I was back at my spot on the beach the next morning. As I knew he would, my jogger appeared right on schedule. We fell into conversation once again. He was warm and friendly but not overly so. Nothing we talked about was very profound or even very personal. I reached for my sunscreen as we talked and began applying it to my legs. He was very interested in that. When I finished doing my arms and torso he surprised me by asking, "Would you like me to do your back? Just say if I'm being too forward. I mean no offense, really."

I hesitated a moment, then handed him the tube. I lay on my stomach hoping my large sunglasses would hide some of the flush on my face. He began to slowly spread the cream across my shoulders. His fingers were strong and supple. He worked very slowly in circles, first small then larger. I tried not to sigh with pleasure but I may have.

Perhaps, because I'd felt my husband do it so many times, I didn't notice at first when the jogger's fingers slipped beneath my bikini bottom. When I did realize, for some mad reason, I made no objection. He'd been using only one hand, I suppose holding the sunscreen with the other. Now he began gently kneading and squeezing my bum with both.

It's odd but I was both relaxed and excited by what he was doing. Then I felt him slide my bottom aside and touch my pussy. Neither of us had said a word since I'd turned on my stomach. Now, I couldn't help giving a soft gasp. Still, I didn't object to what this stranger was doing. He ran his finger around the edges of my pussy. My breathing quickly got heavier and my juices started to flow. Then he started massaging my clit making it swell and bloom rigid. In just a few moments I was shuddering with a series of small orgasms that seemed to go on and on.

When he slid my bottom off I knew what was going to happen, but still I didn't stop him. Actually, I raised my body slightly to make it easier for him. In seconds he was over me, pushing a thick hard erection into my now dripping pussy. OMG! I was having sex with another man. I was cheating on my husband! Several seconds of near panic, then I determined to just go with this and see what it would be like.

It wasn't at all better, just different. Quick and hard. I'd always urged my husband to be gentle in sex but I found I liked this...sort of roughness.

Eventually he went rigid and I could feel the warm semen pulsing inside me. My sunglasses had come off so I buried my face in my beach towel and tried to catch my breath. When we'd both accomplished that he pulled my bottom into place and said, "Come on, let's go down to the water."

The salty, agitated water cleaned us both. We frolicked around a bit, even kissing a few times, then went our separate ways.