My Hie to the Ocean

I rarely go to the ocean. Living in Northern California, I prefer to hike in the mountains. The Sierras are so wonderful, I forget about the beauty at sea level. I hadn’t been to the ocean in over two years and I had recently spoken to a buddy of mine about an easy little 2 mile hike to the beach. The weather report was for partly cloudy skies and a high of 83 degrees for Saturday. Downright hot for the ocean. I had no better hike planned so decided to go west instead of my normal drive east into the mountains. I was not to be disappointed.

I arrived at the trailhead parking lot at around 10:30 am. It was already pretty full, but I managed to wedge my Honda Civic in between two large SUV’s. Having parked next to a lot of SUV’s at trailhead parking lots, I always get a little smile knowing my Honda sits right next to these 4 wheel drive monsters. For most, this will be as rough a terrain as they will ever see. I digress.

I throw on my pack and take off past a barricade. The trail is really a fire engine access road for the area. As I look in front of me, I see these fire control roads are cut in several places along the rolling hills forming the first of the mountains comprising the Coastal Range. The hills are brown in August, except for the green of a bush or the gray or rust color of exposed rock. The walk is peaceful.

Peaceful but not lonely. People are jogging or walking all around. Couples, singles. Not tons of people, but someone normally always in sight.

To my left is a creek with the lush green of overgrown wild blackberry vines, eucalyptus trees and asparagus ferns. To my right is the upslope of the golden hills I described earlier. My hike is down the spine of this valley to the water’s edge.

I arrive at the beach surprisingly fast. With no one else to speak to, I found myself walking at a fairly brisk pace. The ocean was beautiful. The sun was shining down from over my back. The waves were crashing and making their familiar sound. The beach was relatively small. Maybe 1000 yards long. As I stepped onto the sand, it was more like little pebbles than grains of sand. My feet sunk and the toes of my boots dug for traction.

I looked up and down the beach. Couples sitting with each other. A family up to the right. I decided to walk left. Getting on to the firmer, wetter sand/rock of the beach closer to the lapping waves, I turned and got a good look up the valley I had just hiked down. A very pretty sight with the valley narrowing right at the beach. The surrounding walls of the valley came right to the edge of the ocean forming steep cliffs that cut off all access to the north or to the south of the beach. The cliffs did not appear to be climbable, but the walls of the valley just behind the cliffs were nicely sloped and looked like a good place to hike a bit later.

I found a nice level spot on the beach out of the reach of the incoming tide and reached inside my daypack and opened my beach towel. Laying it out on the sand, I sat down and reached for my pack. That’s when I first remember seeing a young couple approaching me. They were talking to each other and I remember how captivating her smile was. You know the smile I mean. Her slim lips framed beautifully white teeth. Her smile was so natural. Here was a woman unafraid to smile widely. Not the pursed smile with an upturned corner. No, this was a genuine “I love life” smile. They must have been walking behind me and also just arrived at the beach. Not as prepared as I, they simply sat down on the sand.

I removed a pair of binoculars from my bag and looked out to the ocean to check out the boats. I examined the local birds on the nearby rocks (cormorants and pelicans) and then gazed up onto the surrounding hills. I was attracted by what looked to be a house far above. Upon closer inspection, though, I saw it was not a house, but a bunker of some sort. Not far above that concrete bunker was another bunker and behind that one was another.

I’m sure many of you out there are aware of the reasons these bunkers were built into the sides of these ocean cliffs just north of San Francisco. I, however, do not know when or why they were built aside from the obvious defense reasons.

I pulled the binoculars down just in time to see the girl to my right pull off her light blue t-shirt revealing a pretty light pink bikini top contrasting nicely with her light brown hair. Her male companion was already down to his oversized swim shorts and was running out to the waves. She leaned back and undid the button to her shorts. In one motion she unzipped her fly, rocked forward removing her weight from her bottom and slid her shorts to her knees. She ten rocked back onto her bottom and slid her shorts over her feet and folded them neatly placing them on the sand next to her. Her bikini bottoms were tied at her hip and were cut low below her flat belly. She rose, adjusted her bikini bottoms and trotted out to her friend.

I watched them and others for 30 minutes or so. I don’t think she ever got into the water above her knees. I myself had taken off my shoes and socks and walked into the water only to find it too cold for my tender feet and I retreated back to my towel. The ocean air felt good on my feet and legs though. I wish I had brought my swimsuit, if for no other reason than to soak up more sun. My shorts were a little baggy, so I pushed up the pant legs a bit and made do.

As I would glance around, I was always pulled back to her smile. It was intoxicating. I figure she must have been around 24 or 25. Her friend looked to be around the same. She stood maybe five foot 6 or 7 inches and had a very petite frame. Her face narrow and her nose as cute as her smile. Her legs were not short, but real long, either. Her ankles were small and her calves revealed a woman who worked out. Her thighs were firm, but not muscular. And her bikini bottoms folded around a young, firm buttock that made every guy walking past take a look.

Because she faced away looking into the ocean most of the time, it wasn’t until they returned for their clothes that I got to look at her breasts. They were smallish, but firm. Her bikini top covered them fully, except for a small amount that managed to sneak out close to her armpit. The water had stiffened her nipples behind her material.

They put on their clothes and started to walk back to the path. I figured all of the entertainment was gone and started to pack up myself when I looked over and noticed that they were ascending the hills along a pathway I had seen towards the military bunkers. I sat back down and took out my binoculars.

They reached the first bunker and explored it thoroughly. As she started to walk back to the path though, he pulled her hand back and kissed her. They stood and talked nose to nose for a couple of minutes occasionally pecking at each others lips. His hand was rubbing her back. Her hands were wrapped around his shoulders.

They broke apart and starting walking further up the hill. Soon they had crested out of my sight. I had wanted to explore these bunkers anyway, but I also thought I might have an opportunity to see this woman a little closer if I followed. Soon I had my pack on my back and was climbing up the path.

I have to admit, I have had my fair share of voyeur experiences. My first was of my next door neighbor when I was 14. The smell of wet wood fencing still brings back great memories in an instant. I remember looking through the little hole in the fence as the sister of one of my good friends would get dressed. Ah, the good old days.

I remember staying at my father’s house in the summer and looking out the bedroom window at the next door lady. Our bedroom windows were probably no more than 10 feet apart and only separated by a chain link fence. I’d be in my darkened room and see her light come on after Johnny Carson. I never did meet her and she was probably forty five years old when I was a teenager, but seeing her remove her bra was a sight I’ll never forget.

Now it is I who is 45 years old. While not bad looking (in my own opinion), I know I won’t be gracing the cover of People magazine.

I head up the trail with conviction. Having climbed in the mountains, this coastal trail is not difficult, though steep. I scour the hillside above me, hoping I haven’t missed my opportunity. There. Still climbing up is the couple. He is in the lead. I continue up.

I reach the bunker they had embraced at and look above. They have moved off of the trail and are now walking through two feet high grass and low laying bushes. They turn to their left and disappear. I look through my binoculars and can just make out a piece of concrete where they vanished. Bingo. They have gone into a bunker.

The fog had started to move in and it hid the direct sunlight. The breeze picked up and was rustling the surrounding vegetation. I hurriedly walked up the trail and saw the flattened grass along the trail where they had gone their own way. I decided to take a higher route and approach them from above. I figured if they emerged from the bunker and saw me, I’d pretend to be out looking for any military artifacts. Pretty lame on later thought.

I walked to about twenty yards above their bunker and proceeded to descend directly towards it. The wind was up pretty good right now, so any noise I made was masked. When I got to within 15 feet, I noticed that the bunker had a side entrance to my left. I slowly approached that way and got to within a couple of feet. I heard some talking. Quiet talking. I removed my pack slowly and set in down on the ground. I looked at the side entrance and found it was not an entrance at all, but a chimney of some sort, maybe for ventilation. The top of the chimney was about two feet below the bunker top. I eased myself on top of the bunker very quietly and looked into the chimney. I noticed that the wall it shared with the bunker was made out of iron. Portions of it had rusted out and I thought I may be able to look inside if I lay on my belly. Ever so slowly I stretched out and lowered my head, looking through the rusted panel into the bunker. The bunker opening faced west towards the ocean and the diffused sun from the fog lit the insides just fine.

Just then I heard him tell her how beautiful she was. I froze.

My face was not up against the panel yet, but I could make out a color other than earthen from the inside. I put my eye closer to the panel. It was the back of his shirt. They were making out inside the bunker with her below him. I adjusted to get more comfortable.

As I peered through the panel, I got a better picture of what was going on. He was on top and as he pulled away to talk, I could see she still was fully clothed. Then I caught her smile. Oh, man… what a smile. I quickly checked out the insides of the bunker and only noticed that she had kicked off her shoes exposing her bare feet. Her toenails were painted scarlet red.

About four feet below me and slightly to my right, they kissed. Based on their conversation, they did not know each other very well. This may have been their first date. They would kiss and she would talk about her work as a nurse. He’d nuzzle and he'd say how interesting her life was.

Anyone in this situation knows that my heart was beating fast and the adrenalin was pumping fast and furious. All senses were on full alert. I quickly surveyed my ability to be discovered. Because I was below the top of the bunker, I felt I couldn’t be seen by anyone else from below. I could be seen from above, but the trail didn’t go directly above, but instead rounded around to the left. So I felt pretty secure lying as flat and as still as I could.

Things were quiet inside so I placed my eye back up against the panel. He then made the first move by kissing her stomach through her t-shirt. She just smiled. He lifted it and kissed the skin of her belly. She closed her eyes. He kissed again. Same response. He kissed a little lower. Her hands combed his hair. He kissed the top of her shorts. Her eyes were still closed. A closed lip smile came across her face. He kissed her shorts again. No resistance.

I could hear him tell her how great she smelled. He said he wanted to taste her. She just cooed. He sat up on his knees and undid the button on her shorts and undid her fly. She raised her bottom and he slid her shorts off. I could hardly breathe. My palms were moist.

He kissed her belly again and then kissed her bikini bottoms. He kissed her crotch and nibbled. She squirmed and cooed. He kissed and nibbled her crotch through the fabric of her bikini. Her eyes were still closed. Both hands were in his hair as she concentrated.

I saw his right index finger appear by her crotch and massage the outer lining of her fabric. It ran along the edge of the fabric and then pulled it to one side. I was taken aback. As he pulled the fabric aside, it revealed to me a cleanly shaven pussy. He didn’t say a word. She didn’t move. Her knees were up and her feet down on the warm concrete floor. My view was in the same plane as her outstretched right knee. Her head above to my left and her feet below to my right.

He tongued her pussy. She arched her back saying “Yes”. He looked up from between her legs and said she tasted incredible. He buried his face in her pussy and licked and sucked. His left hand pulled at the string on one side of her bikini. She chuckled and said the ties were fake. That they were sewn together. She again raised her hips and he slid her bikini bottoms off.

Unrestricted, she spread her knees a little wider and for the first time looked at him eating her out. I backed off a bit because for the first time, she could look up and see me. He sucked and licked with renewed energy and soon I noticed her eyes were again closed, but rather than a smile on her mouth, her mouth was slightly open. Her breathing had picked up and she was drifting into a different land.

He pulled away and I noticed how swollen her lips had become. I could clearly make out the button of her clitoris. Her lips were pink and wet. He probed inside with his index finger and she inhaled. I could not believe the view I had. He withdrew his finger and inserted two. He moved his fingers in and out like a slow piston. I think he was touching her clitoris with his thumb on the “downstroke”. After a dozen or so strokes, he withdrew his fingers and widened her buttocks and placed his middle finger at the opening of her anus. His head covered up what was happening as he went back to lapping her lips, but my imagination could see all. His finger must have been probing her anus. She was wriggling a bit more. Her eyes were closed more tightly. She removed one hand from his head and dropped it to her leg as if to be at the ready to stop him.

He must have sensed this because soon his right hand was up exploring her breasts. Pinching her nipples through her fabric. Massaging her left tit like it was bread dough. He moved his fingers below the fabric of her bikini top and pushed upward revealing her breasts. Her t-shirt and bikini top were now bunched around her collar. Her nipples were small, but hard. The color around her nipple was darker than the rest of her skin but very light. Actually, her nipple was lighter than her tanned skinned surrounding her breast. She moved her hand from her thigh and brushed the nipple of her other breast. I knew she was approaching a point of no return.

Her knees clinched around his head. Her left hand pulled his head into her crotch. Her eyes were closed. He slowed to longer strokes with his tongue. She was pinching and pulling on her right nipple and then turned her head away from me and looked toward the opening of the bunker and said “Oh, God”. Her body tightened and like the waves in the ocean, you could tell her orgasm was coming. With every wave was a slight, “my God”. She said that five or six times. Quietly. The waves were subsiding. His head moved much slower and without the ferocity of a few moments ago. He arose from between her legs, still on his knees. Her pussy (if described like a rose) was in full bloom. Her lips were swollen and laid out to each side as her legs were spread, fully exposing her clitoris. It was so pink and contrasted so beautifully against her pale skin just above and her tanned skin to either side. I could barely see her anus. Tight and cleanly shaven as well.

She was simply gorgeous. A gorgeous woman lay out just after sex is an incredible sight and she was incredible. He told her how fantastic she tasted. She turned and smiled at him that wonderful smile. She said “thank you”.

He undid his belt buckle and unzipped his fly. Sitting back, now, he removed his shoes and his shorts, then his swim trunks so he was naked from the waist down. His penis was already hard and maybe six inches. He started to lean back in between her legs, but she stopped him and said she was not on any birth control, so that may not be a good idea. She instead pulled her legs beneath her and pushed him backwards so he was sitting with his back against the wall.

I had backed away a bit at this time, afraid of being found. By the time I had brought my eye closer to the rusted panel, I saw her back with her head going up and down. They were practically right below me, so I didn’t have much of a view aside from her hair bobbing up and down, the back of her blue t-shirt and her naked butt.

I really wanted to get a better view of her butt, so I slowly pulled myself up. Then ever so slowly with as little touching the top of the bunker, I edged my way over to the far front opening of the bunker. I figured her body was shielding him from seeing me and her butt should be pointing practically right at me.

I looked out on the trail to see if anyone else was around. Nobody to be seen. The wind momentarily died down, so I froze. Soon it was back in a gust, so I used that cover to make my final move and slowly lower my head into the weeds and peer over the edge of the opening. I was right. She was bent down giving him a blowjob and fully exposed. From my view was her gorgeous ass and her pussy lips. Her pussy was no longer wide open as the blossom had returned to a more normal closed state. I am not typically a lover of anuses, but hers was there and just beautiful to behold. I was, maybe, 2 feet from her butt and feet.

There was that temptation to reach out and make contact with your voyeured subject, but I knew that would be crazy here, and considered being satisfied that I “could have” touched her private parts.

Feeling too exposed myself, I went back to my previous position and brought my eye back to the iron panel. Her hand was now stroking him along with her mouth. She would occasionally raise her head back and then I could see the purple head of his cock wanting more. She would comment on how good he tasted. I laughed to myself and wondered what happened to women’s tastes buds after they get married. I supposed the same thing that happens to men’s ability to nuzzle and hold their wives.

She went back to sucking him. She was not afraid to suck him deeply. She would go down and stay down. Probably tickling his shaft with her tongue. She would come off and take a breath, still stroking with her right hand. She’d then go back down and I imagine would suck on the head of his cock. I couldn’t see his face, but he seemed to be enjoying it.

Soon, she was back to bobbing up and down on his shaft with her mouth and right hand in rhythm. In a matter of a few seconds of this pace he announced fairly loudly (so loud I pulled back) that “I’m going to cum”. She backed off a bit and continued to stroke his penis fast. I was looking directly down over his dick. She took her mouth off his dick and I saw the first bit of cum come out of the head of his penis and at first started to feel sorry for him if this was all he was going to be able to muster.