My First Experience of Outdoor Sex

[This is a true story, and unlike my other stories, written months or even years after the events, was written a few hours after it happened. I accidentally left it in my drafts, hence the late publication]

It was a foggy, mild day in September. I hadn't sucked cock since a massage over 18 months ago, before lockdown. I decided to go to a beach near me which is clothing optional and which, at its far end, has a reputation. I was determined to, for the first time in my life, get it for free, with a stranger, and in the outdoors.

When you hear "beach" you probably think of a sandy shore, close to car parking and concessions for food and drink. This was not that sort of beach. It was pebbly and awkward to get to, involving walking through wooded glens and then clambering down a dirt slope after ignoring the "keep out" signs.

I'd been before, when there were over a hundred people, some naked, some dressed. Other than the lack of clothes, it was like any other English beach. People had been trying to soak up what sun there was, and had beach towels and the usual things for a day out.

This time I was there a lot earlier, in mid morning, with the sun trying to burn off the sea mist. It was also low tide, with some rocks cropping up across perhaps a thousand yards of pebbles. I seemed to be the only person there, as I stripped down to just my walking boots, my clothes and towel in my knapsack.

I walked for a few minutes and saw an elderly nude man, smoking. Neither of us were interested so I walked on. At the end of the beach there was a rather magnificent mature man sporting a big cock, apparently asleep. He looked like an interesting prospect but ignored me even though my boots were making a fair noise on the pebbles.

I scrambled up a low dirt cliff into a large area of mixed scrub, small trees and occasional dells. The cliffs here had collapsed decades before, and felt very remote. Surely here I would meet someone? I spent some time relaxing there on a beach towel but saw no one until I saw what I will call The Stranger, wearing only a cap and sunglasses, walking along the edge of the low cliff, too far to call out to. A change of tactics was called for, I decided, and I too walked a path close to the low cliff edge until there was an area, the size of a small room, between the cliff edge and the path. Here I laid down on my towel.

The Stranger came along a few minutes later. He was about the same age as me (late sixties), not too bad a body, and an uncircumcised cock that was six or seven inches long. It was gently curved and the diameter of a smallish cucumber. I said hello, he said hello back and headed off.

Five minutes later he walked back, ignoring me completely. A rather nice man then walked by but ignored me when I called hello.

Another five minutes on, I decided to go further into the scrub before heading home. My path, one of many, took me to a small dell where The Stranger was sitting on a log. Here's my opportunity, I thought.

"Hello", I said, "Not many people about are there".

He replied along the same lines and complained about families bringing kids to a clothes optional beach. Not appropriate, he said.

We spoke for a few minutes, and I wondered how to bring up the subject of gay sex to what appeared to be a straight man, when I suddenly realised that his left hand was gently going up and down, partly hidden by a leg. Ah ha, I thought.

I smiled, moved closer, touching the leg, and while I still couldn't quite see what he was doing there was no doubt that he was masturbating. My heart beat faster. I can't for the life of me remember what I said, something like "What are you up to?" while leaning over to see the firm sausage of a cock being stroked by his hand.

"Can I touch it?" I asked The Stranger, and a slow grin widened as he knew I was hooked. "Sure", he replied. This can't be happening, I told myself, surely it's another daydream.

I got on my knees before him, gently took the entire length in the fingers of both hands, and gave it a little squeeze. It was firm muscle, not like my little excuse of a cock, which is nearly always flaccid. All the time I was with him it continued to be big and firm. There was a little blood at the end of the penis, either side of the entry point, which freaked me out a little (and doesn't sound healthy), and a faint smell of something I couldn't place.

After a few seconds I couldn't resist, and began sucking the top inch while stroking the rest of its length. It felt so solid and familiar to have an erect cock back in my mouth.

After a minute or two of this, during which he said that he liked being dominant, he asked if we could go somewhere more private. Voyeurs were only OK if he had agreed to them. He obviously knew all the footpaths, and confidently led the way to another dell a few minutes away, and more inland.

We talked while on my beach towel. He asked if I was married and I lied and said no. He was married but his wife wasn't interested in naturism. I talked about my prostate operation, and he was fascinated, and horrified, that I couldn't ejaculate. He said that he ejaculated daily, sometimes twice a day, and couldn't imagine not being able to ejaculate. He asked when I had last had cock, and I replied eighteen months, which also startled him. This was my first time doing anything like this, I said, other than massages, and he nodded.

The Stranger asked me if I liked pain, and said that if I couldn't make him cum by giving him a handjob then I should expect to be spanked. I wasn't sure that I liked the way this was going -- I like being submissive, but I have limits. "What shall I call you?" he asked. I replied along the lines of I'm nobody's bitch. "Yes, but what do you call yourself?" "Stephen", I replied. He was Al.

'Sit down", he commanded. As I sat, my head a few inches from his cock, he suddenly tugged my head forward, my mouth opened, and I had cock in it again. I had no complaints about his taking charge in this way. I took his full length into my mouth and was proud that, for once, I didn't gag. After a while he told me to suck his balls, but his scrotum sac was rather small and hairy, and I didn't enjoy it. At about this time he told me that when he ejaculated it was like a projectile.

All this time he was gently masturbating me and commented that it had grown in size (yeah, like from two to four inches). He asked me to masturbate him with my hand, but I wasn't much good at it (I'd never done it to anyone before), and would have preferred sucking his cock.

After a few minutes Al got up, took his things, and walked off. I was stunned -- no goodbye let alone a word of thanks. The whole experience was not particularly satisfactory, and far too short. Like the joke about the Jewish woman who complained that the food was terrible at the restaurant, and her companion agreed and added "and the portions are so small!"

This little incident gave me a number of firsts: first outdoor, first that I didn't pay for, first with a stranger, first administration of a handjob. Will I do it again? Possibly.

[I haven't repeated it, 18 months on]