Thoughts of a Man Alone

My penis hung slack in the cool of the shade. It was all just so pleasant. The breeze blowing under my chair was warm; I could feel it gently caressing my genitalia. My penis stirred at the gentle touch and pleasing warmth. My balls felt full and heavy, as if they were weighing my scrotum down. I could imagine them lowering almost to the verandah's floor. Funny how the scrotum accommodates changes in temperature, seeking to keep the testes below the temperature of the rest of the body. My thought not entirely ridiculous as my scrotum is unusually generous. On a bitterly cold day my balls are tight against my body, pressed up against me for warmth, but on a day like today they hang and swing very freely. I could feel them, pendulum like, moving gently in the breeze, albeit not really hanging anywhere near as far as to the verandah's floor! Let us be real.

So good to be on holiday, so good to be naked in the heat. It had been a hard year, rewarding certainly, but I had worked and worked. Now I was relaxing -- at last. I reached and stroked my penis, feeling it swell in my hand. My first erection of the holiday. I had been too tired when I had flown in the night before to have a relaxing cum then -- indeed, had not needed that, just the desire to fall into the bed and sleep. But now...

Hard in my hand, the head swollen and fat, my balls starting to swing rather more as I closed my eyes and settled myself into 'pleasant thoughts.' Probably I would cum before I opened them again. I had no need to worry about my ejaculation. No clothes to mess. No nothing. What and where should I let my thoughts wander? I leant back, leaving my erect cock firm and expectant, my hands falling away, just enjoying that feeling of being hard in the heat, luxuriating in the delicious carress of a warm breeze. Naked and hard. It is so good to have an erection.

I had no hope of actual sex on my holiday. I am a naturally retiring and shy type. Physically not repulsive or anything like that. It is just I do not relate easily to the opposite sex or to people generally. Yes, I am a loner. The friends I have, are 'online', met through gaming but never physically met in real life. My life is work and computer games -- though, wisely, I do not also live on junk food and, rather than being indolent, I keep my body exercised. Don't get the idea that I am overweight and unhealthy. No, not at all. Wake, run, work, play games, sleep, wake, run. Work, run, play... you get the picture.

A thirty-six year old virgin. My not ungenerous penis has never ventured into a girl, even a little way, or been sucked to conclusion or not. Nor have I held another man's cock and wanked it, let alone sucked or frotted. Of course I've held my own enough! My daily routine actually has 'sleep' bracketed by 'wank.' Twice daily my penis exudes, in the morning and at night. As regular as clockwork, though my thoughts are varied. The pattern does change on holiday -- of course.

Masturbatory thoughts crept into my head as I rested there. Imagined ideas. Imagined scenes. Scenes of sunshine and warmth:

'Oh no,' I said to myself. 'I can't really be seeing..." But I was.

Tessa Allbright, Dan's daughter from next door, was out in her garden in the very early summer's morning, standing there in the sunshine. I say 'standing' if her pose could really be described as just 'standing.' How do women and girls do that? Just artfully pose without thinking. If it had been a man he'd have just been standing there, but Tessa... One foot a little in front of the other, meaning one leg was a bit forward of the other, which, in turn, meant her hip was not quite level. And she had her hands raised pulling back or was that tying up her long blond hair. It was in her hands and she was doing something with it.

Not that she was naked -- as such. And the 'as such' mattered. She was in a light but long nightdress. Yes, it was open, in having a long scouped back, but otherwise it covered her, bar bare arms, shoulders and feet. It was the sun's fault of course. Rain might have done the same, but otherwise all would have been fine and respectable. Not as it was -- quite simply staggeringly sexual. The sun shone through the material rendering it nigh on transparent as if she was dressed in transparent gauze with little polka dots all over. I could not see her breasts nor where her thighs joined together at a presumed mossy grove or camel toe, but I could see, in perfect curving detail, her pink bottom. Perfect cheeks above gorgeous smooth thighs, with the light coming through the gap between those thighs, seeming to highlight the route to manly pleasures. A route I had never followed, not with Tessa most certainly, or any other woman.

That bottom! You -- or more accurately I -- wanted to smooth my hands over those cheeks, perhaps place her over my knee and spank; certainly let my cock spring up between her legs. I wanted to feel between those cheeks, into that so interesting crack with dimples above. Fuck -- I wanted to stick a finger into her hot back passage. More I wanted to stick my cock in there. Plant my cock in her crack and just push. All in my mind of course. I had not so much as pushed a finger into a woman's wrinkled orifice. I had not had opportunity. Or, perhaps, sought the opportunity. But that did not at all mean I did not relish the idea.

And Tessa was not the only one of us naked. I often rise and like to sit in the early morning sunshine in the privacy of my recessed patio. Yes, sometimes I sit there with an erection. Today I was standing there with an erection. How could I not be with this vision of the erotic before me, Tessa's almost naked skin against a backdrop of dew shining, emerald lawn? If she turned I would see all, but if she turned she would see all. And Tessa is 18 and I am 36. I a man and she a young woman. It would not do. I retreated -- slipped back inside the house.

And when I looked again, she was gone.

Of course she was gone. It was all in my imagination. Tessa real enough back home and next door to me there, not that she had ever come out into the back garden in such a transparent nightie. Not that I had seen, anyhow. Nor had I stood erect and naked, staring at her with the delicious risk of her perhaps turning and seeing me like that -- tumescent and exposed. But I wanked happily at the daydream, at the thoughts. Had wanked more than once at the thought of her.

Just then I heard, from my lounger, the ringing of the door bell to the villa. Wrapping a towel around myself, tightly so as to hold my erection from poking, I made my way to the door. It was, as I imagined, Aurélie, the so sweet, little woman from the nearby village whose husband I hired to look after the villa in my absence. Yes, the villa is my own, I have been successful enough to buy such a second home abroad. Not a large villa: but not cheap either. She does the cleaning, especially when I am in residence. Washes the sheets and so on. A little curtsey from her and a little chat about her family and so on, before I returned to my lounger and my contemplation.

How pleasant for her to pop out later with a glass of lemonade to ask if there was anything else I would like. I did not need to say anything crass like 'my usual.' Aurélie knows my ways, her hand reaching for her top. Her lime green top. A blouse with white buttons that she undoes one by one, exposing more and more of her substantial bosom, until she can pull it aside and show me her dark nipples and large areolae, succulent and tempting for a man. Not quite 'melons' but certainly breasts that are round and juicy. I am naked and my penis is strongly extended in that so natural manly fashion. Her left hand reaches and holds, just a hint of a 'clink' as her gold wedding ring catches agains my own gold ring. Not a wedding ring but a ring around my penis. A decorative band not symbolic at all. Aurélie presents her breasts to my mouth and I suck eagerly, enjoying their soft skin and the contrasting hardness of nipple.

Aurélie's hand strokes, feeling my ample foreskin before sliding down the shaft to fondle and manipulate my balls, there in their sack, before setting them gently swinging. A delightful giggle escapes her. This is not some crude transaction whereby I pay Aurélie for sex; some additional 'pocket money' tucked away secretly from her husband. He knows, and knows she enjoys the play when I visit; he does not discourage. His balls do not swing but are tight against his body even in the heat. Aurélie likes the contrast. I know that soon her mouth will be seeking my penis to suck. Mine is larger, considerably more so in girth and length than her husband. She enjoys the change. Something, perhaps, 'to get her teeth into' more than her husband's -- maybe not the phrase she would use! That first day she will suck me dry, but on other days my penis will find its way under her skirt, delightfully crimson red today, and into her body. She will be filled -- speared on something much more substantial than at home. Aurélie will ride with such enthusiasm my long pole out in the sunshine. Aurélie loving the contrast between my so pale, yet so unusually filling, penis and her dark, dark skin.

Later in my holiday she will choose to do the housework completely naked. A delight for me to see her dark curls, jiggly boobs and wobbling bottom as she moves around the villa. I will take her in many positions and each day she will go home with my cum inside her, dripping down her knickerless thighs.

Maybe her husband will come too on occasional days, bringing fork and hoe to attend to the garden. In the heat he may well work in just a tee shirt, his wedding tackle and tight bottom so on display. Maybe Aurélie will be naughty with him and put on a little sexual show for my benefit. Marital sexual relations performed right in front of me as I pleasantly wank, as is my wont.

I watched a butterfly passing across my patio, fluttering this way and that. Aurélie was not there. It was not her day to visit and clean. She was real enough, certainly; her husband real enough and she was as I described -- as far as I know. I have never seen her naked, nor she given any indication she would be happy to provide 'additional services'. All in my mind but the idea so very pleasing, nonetheless, as I enjoyed my leisurely but solitary wank.

Standing, I walked out from the shade into the full glare of the sun, feeling it strike my skin and, of course, my upright penis. Feeling the warmth on my low hanging balls. I smiled as the sun caught the gold ring, tight behind my flared corona, nestling there in my sulcus. Here the patio of my small villa overlooks the sea and rocks below. A fine vantage point. Out to sea, sailboats were gliding along with white triangles of sails catching the light breeze. Such a beautiful blue to the sea. With binoculars or telescope the mariners out on the water would be able to see me, a lone but naked figure with an upright, not inconsiderable, penis flashing in the rather truer sense of the word as the sun glinted from my gold penis ring. Is not the word 'Pharos' closely associated with the word 'Phallos' or am I mistaken? Are not penis and lighthouse so similar in shape? My erection shining and flashing like a beacon to those sailors.

A telescope mounted on my patio before me and I applied my eye, looking out at the boats. In one, a small party of young women in somewhat naval gear, navy blue blouses and crisp white trousers and shorts, masses of hair under blue naval bonnets, were speeding over the water. A joy to my observant eye. I roved on. A larger yacht, heading out to sea manned by -- a delight to my eye -- naked people. Heading for sea, they had loosened their clothing completely. Young men and women showing all to me. Breasts moving as the girls pulled on the ropes, some with and some without triangles of hair. Fine young men, bronzed and athletic with swinging penises and balls. Might they erect and be put to good use? 'Weigh heigh and up he rises, early in the morning' to misquote. Certainly marlin spikes at the ready!

The naked sailors, or at least some, seemed, through the telescope, to be looking my way. The flashes of my gold ring perhaps catching their eyes. Could they know what is flashing? At that distance could they see my 'pharos' or just the flash? Are they taking the yacht out to sea to moor and then engage in sexual activity? Perhaps an orgy -- multiple partners. A requirement, perhaps, that all should be mated. The ship's bell indicating a change of partner required. All penises to go in all vaginas. No exceptions! Would I love to join them? The thought of me at the wheel, my gold banded penis strongly erect, the envy of the sailors and the delight of the girl crew. A captain's penis!

More happy thoughts as I lounged in the shade. My penis hard in my hand. My eyes closed. The location of my thoughts mere yards away but I had not moved. The patio and sea view as real as my neighbour Dan and his daughter, Tessa, back home, but whether a fine yacht with naked crew was at that moment sailing past I did not know. I had not moved to look through the telescope.

A sudden call, a voice from the arched entrance to my villa, from the track beyond. I hastily grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my lower quarters. A visitor? Surely not. Who?

Down the path I went and there, under the stone arch, standing at the iron gate, a young woman with an equally young man. As I got closer I could see a litre and a half plastic water bottle in her hand. From it dripped water. It was cracked and leaking. She in khaki shorts, her fine, bronzed thighs showing delightfully. A blue teeshirt above, pushed out by firm breasts. Auburn hair cascading out from under a baseball cap. The cap in green with a '6' emblazoned on the front in that American football style. The lad in baggy orange linen shorts with almost open white shirt, buttons undone down to his tummy button, his hairy chest rather showing. Tousled fair hair curling out from under another baseball cap, a yellow one with a similar '9' on it.

The amusing juxtaposition of the '6' and the '9' got me. Soixant- neuf indeed! Did they?

"Sorry to disturb," said the girl, "I dropped our water bottle and it broke. Could we, have you another and water, please? We've gone for a walk and..."

And it was very hot. Not good or safe to be caught without water. I may be a loner. I may like my solitude but I am not unfriendly or unhelpful. I offered, moreover I invited them in for orange juice and perhaps a swim. They accepted gratefully both orange juice and the invitation to swim in my pool. It was only when sitting and drinking orange juice did they explain they, unsurprisingly for a walk, had come without swimming things.

"Perhaps if we had come to a quiet and empty beach we might have skinny dipped," she revealed.

A pleasant idea. They might well have done more afterwards, but I did not ask that. What I did say was I did not have swimming trunks either, given the seclusion of my villa. If they wished I had no objection to skinny dipping. So tempting for them. They could have gone into the water in bra and pants -- or indeed in shorts and shirts as they would have easily dried in the sun. But they went in naked.

Polite not to watch them undress but not, I judged after that. A delightful sight. Ruth's breasts as pleasing in shape as had been implied by her tee shirt. Lovely coral pink nipples. And such a patch of auburn hair down below, half hiding her feminine slit. Pleasingly rounded hips and a soft looking bottom, pretty dimples at the top of her crack. They were much admired by me as she walked over to the pool, buttocks rising and falling. The young man quite hairy for someone so fair, neat little circumcised penis hanging free, his knob so pink and obvious. A tight bottom that would look very fine rising and falling between the girl's thighs, or indeed if in the imagined '69' position and him on top all spread over her head.

A definite stirring under my towel as I watched them enter the water and swim. My towel tenting but not obvious to them. I was discrete as I watched them swim up and down. But then - it was not something I had done before, nothing like that, indeed! To stand up and let my towel fall from my erection and be gloriously erect and naked in the presence of a couple. An intense pleasure then to walk towards them and the pool like that, my stiff penis swaying before I slipped into the water with them. A daring thing to do but they had been swimming away from me. They had not seen my exposed hardness. A hardness which melted away as I swam.

I was naked with them in the pool. Naked with them too as we came out of the pool and stood, naturist like, talking and unconcened at our nudity before they dressed to leave. Did I detect envious glances, and not just from Ruth, at my clearly more substantial penis just hanging there as we talked? I wrapped my towel around me and saw them to the gate. As they took their leave and walked away down the track, the villa's wall obscuring my lower half I let the towel fall and stood watching their retreating bottoms, remembering Ruth's naked bottom, imagining her bent over the wall and me coming up behind her and pushing in. I erected and when they turned to wave, though they could not see that far down my body, I was fully hard.

How lovely it would have been had Ruth and Guy become amorous by the pool. Asked if I minded, had indeed then performed 'sixty-nine' before me. Perhaps even inviting me, in return for my hospitality, to taste her like that. And then, in addition to the water and orange juice, providing her with my hot and salty cum to drink straight from my penis into her mouth.

But she had not, and they had not. As I stroked my penis, the two of them faded into the distance along the winding track, indeed more than that, they faded from my imagination as I released my penis and moved a little on my lounger, opening my legs a little wider to feel the cool breeze the more. No, they too, the so pretty Ruth and handsome, but small cocked Guy, had not been there in need of water or a swim. They had not been there at all, did not even exist. Just a figment of my fertile and aroused mind.

Lovely to be relaxing on holiday. Lovely to get up and pour myself a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and walk around the villa's garden, glass in hand, with penis splendid and upright to take a peek across at the neighbouring villa to see if the occupants had yet risen. To observe the villa and its neat, Mediterranean garden from the dark shade of overhanging cypresses and to look especially towards their pool. Delight and pleasure coming to me. A sight to arouse the male in me -- if not already aroused. Certainly, a sight to stroke a penis to. A new holidaying neighbour out there in the sun sans clothing or even a bikini. A woman not a girl. A woman no doubt well experienced in sexual matters. A woman reclining and reading a paperback on a sun lounger, her legs towards me, open and exposing all; knees up but lolling apart. Was she enjoying the feeling of the sun on pudendum? It was certainly there in all its delight in the full sun. I raised my binoculars to examine, my so male penis hard and straining before me. Her sex so different from my own. The contrast there to be seen. My upright proudness: her rather hidden charms.

A profusion of light brown curls, a hint of moisture upon them. Real drops clinging to the single hairs. Was that the heat of the morning, was her paperback arousing her, had she been swimming? Which was it? Her sex large in the binocular's view. Delightfully pink and frilly, scalloped lips even; and rather than forming an oval shape. seemed tighter more forming a circle, perhaps even an outer funnel into the opening. An opening I could just about see. And above, joyfully above, such a clitoris. Not simply the hood on show, certainly a prominent hood, set back more like the cowl of a monk's habit - folds of prepuce indeed. And pushing out, not the tonsured head of a monk, but the rounded glans of a large and very visible clitoris. Had I been able to reach, and through the glass of the binoculars it almost seemed as if this vision was within reach, I am sure I could have moved the folds of the prepuce over the clitoral knob just as I would -- was doing - over my own glans penis.