As my fiftieth birthday approaches I've been reminiscing about the halcyon days of my early forties. Sexually, they were the most active of my live. Let me explain......
Early this century my first wife and I went through a premature mid-life crisis. The pressure of the daily office grind, the battle to repay mortgages in such a chaotic city, Sydney, proved too much for us. We had tried to escape through booze and food but becoming overweight and hung-over only added to the stress. Sex became something we did on Sunday mornings before we did the housework.
I would wake up before Jane, my erection rubbing the sheets. Sometimes I would wank myself for a while then go back to sleep. If Jane stirred I would sneak below the covers, run my tongue along the back of her legs, gently massaging her thighs until she parted her legs. I slid up behind her and pushed my erection into her wetness. We then humped until she clawed the pillows in orgasm. That was my signal to increase the speed of my thrusting until I blew into her. We would then either fall back asleep or get up and change the sheets, commencing a day of domestic drudgery.
We decided to "retire" for a year or two at our weekender. Jane quit her job the same day I cleaned out my desk. We did the paperwork and rented out or home. After paying our "packages" into the mortgage we still would have to make some weekly repayments so the need for us to do some work still existed. We left our furniture in the Sydney house so the big move was really just a couple of long drives in a rented van.
Before too long we were residents of a quiet little beachside town, just north of Kiama.
Jane soon obtained a permanent part time position with a local Medical Centre. It took me a little longer but I picked a couple of shifts a week at the local bottle shop. As we settled into a routine it became apparent that working Saturdays and Sundays was more financially rewarding than "normal hours" so we maximized our pays by working weekends. I eventually cemented in Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights and Jane worked the corresponding days. We had money to make the repayments with enough left over to live well, if not lavishly.
As the summer of 2001 progressed we started spending our week days at the local beaches. There were many to choose from, some ocean, some secluded bays and inlets, even a couple of river estuaries that consisted of almost endless expanses of golden sand. We had been to nude beaches in Sydney and were often naked on the beaches here, once we knew that there were no other eyes upon us. Another advantage of working the weekends was that there were few tourists to bother us during the week.
One of my fringe benefits was the weekly Saturday Night Strip Show at the pub. Stuck in the bottle shop I could only watch from a distance, but I was able to see three women gyrate and undress. I saw plenty of breasts and some girl-on-girl action. Sadly, they always kept their skimpy G-strings on no matter how far they spread their legs on the edge of the stage. If I was lucky the girls would walk thru the bottle shop to their cars after the show. I chatted with them occasionally, stealing glimpses of their magnificent bodies.
Jane knew about these shows and encouraged me to watch. She knew that I came horny every Saturday night. She often met me at the front door wearing only a G-string, just like the strippers. Before the door shut behind me I was fondling her breasts. My arms around her, she wrapped her body around me as her tongue entered my mouth. Gently lowering ourselves onto the hall carpet she spread her legs wide. I unzipped my hard cock and pulled the slender material to one side as I slid my hardness into her. I ravaged two handfuls of breast, squeezing them, pinching her nipples and bighting her neck. I would thrust savagely for a few minutes before filling her wet pussy with semen. My fingers found her clit and she climaxed around my still hard cock.
We were getting to know the locals, my job introduced me to most of the local footy/fisherman types and Jane started to get to know some of the families and mothers in the town. It took us a while to meet our neighbors, they had bought the house next to ours when the development had first opened up and they used it purely as a weekender, so we hardly ever saw them, except to exchange a few pleasantries about the weather as we crossed paths.
He was older than me, taller, without my beer-belly and quietly spoken. She was the same age as Jane and I. Her name was Becca and she was medium height, just slightly heavy but she had a cheerful demeanor and tended to wear tight t-shirts with no bra. Her nipples were the first thing that I noticed about her and I remember them to this day, jutting out on a chill spring morning, about the size of the top of my thumb and pointing straight up from fully rounded breasts.
The fact that Becca and her husband, Jim, weren't around much suited us. Theirs was the only house that had a view of our rear yard; it was shielded from view by high security fences in all other directions. As the weather became hotter we both stopped wearing clothes during the week, only donning swimsuits and shirts to drive to and from the beach.
Jane and I really bonded during this summer. With no stress or interruptions we were able to fully explore each other and work through all the issues that had threatened to tear us apart in Sydney. We were able to become fully frank and open in discussing our lust and desires. We talked about our most intimate fantasies and the lack of clothing gave us unlimited opportunities to admire each other.
A typical night back then would start with us driving home from the beach. With the car parked in the double garage I would fire up the B-B-Q and Jane would grab a bottle of wine. After dinner we would play our favorite music as we lounged in the back yard. Jane would lie back in her recliner, her feet resting on the ground on both sides of it. This allowed me a full view her soft golden pubes the pink flesh hidden within.
After I poured her second glass of red she splayed her knees, opening herself so that I could see her hungry inner lips. She ran her hand down her flat stomach and let one finger find its way between her tender folds. She opened the tiny flap of skin above her clit and traced little circles around it with her moist finger tip. Then she would lean forward so that her fingers could enter her soft, warm darkness. She slid one finger in, slowly, then withdrew it and held it out to me.
I knew that she wanted me to watch as she put it back in, quicker this time, then withdrew it and pushed two back in its place. By then her other hand was massaging her plump breast, its nipple being gently worked between those painted nails. Her knees were spread wide now and all her fingers disappeared into her vagina. I watched the smile on her face as she twisted her fingers within her and roughly tweaked her nipples. Her butt lifted off the recliner as she humped her own hand, her face blushing with passion as her movements became more frantic. She came in a rush, almost breathless, grunting "fuck, fuck" then collapsing spread-eagled back onto the recliner.
We learnt to be very direct in our requests of each other; we found that the best way to get what you wanted was to ask for it. This saved an amazing amount of game playing and gave us more time to enjoy our pleasures. One Friday morning I was mowing the lawn and became horny. Jane was cleaning the windows. I walked up beside her and dropped my shorts.
All I had to say was "I want to come in your mouth" and she was on her knees with my soft penis in her mouth; her blonde hair was all I could see. As my penis grew she ran her tongue along the bottom of it. I could feel the tip of her tongue exploring the folds of my foreskin and the valley around the head of my manhood. I was soon fully erect and I watched her head move backwards and forwards as her teeth lightly skimmed my veiny shaft. She wrapped her lips around the head of my cock, her tongue in the eye of the storm as I blew into her mouth. She pulled her head back, showed me her cum laden tongue then swallowed, her blue eyes smiling up at me as she licked her lips.
Five minutes later I was mowing again and she was cleaning. The best part of being able to say "do you want a fuck" was that, if the answer was "no" then it was no and there was no need to waste time trying to make things happen when either one of us wasn't really in the mood. So our routine became a fabulous carefree life of some part time work, wild sex, beach and sun.
Another time she was weeding the garden. She was on all fours in the far corner and I asked her if she wanted a cup of tea or anything. She quietly asked me to pull off her shorts and put my tongue into her. How could I refuse? The next half hour was spent with my face between her legs, my hands greedily groping her inside thighs as I pried them apart and my tongue went deep into her folds, my fingers rubbing her button until she screamed in orgasm. I didn't tell her but the last few minutes of the "show" was observed by Jim, our neighbor. I looked up from her butt to see him peering over the fence. He gave me a wink and thumbs up and I went back to tonguing that beautiful spot between Jane's vagina and her anus. I thought about fucking her then and there but she told me to "wait till tonight".
As the summer progressed we went to a few different beaches. The warmer weather bought sightseers and tourists so we kept looking for more secluded beaches. Eventually we found what would become our regular spot.
There is a small national park a short drive from Kiama. It has good roads with plenty of parking spots with access to several different beaches. The beaches themselves aren't as spectacular as others in the vicinity but that is good. We weren't after scenery; we were just after somewhere to swim and sun bake and occasionally have sex, without drawing attention to ourselves.
The particular beach we decided on is called "Penguin". Apparently back in the early days there was a colony pf Penguins. It is a short walk from a small car park. The path leads down to the southern end of an arc of sand that is about a kilometer long. There are sand dunes at the back of the arc that grow into scrubby hills. Rocky outcrops mark both ends of the beach and provide spots sunbathe in complete seclusion. There are a few small trees on the edge of the sand that throw a little shade.
The first time we ventured here we set up out towels under the shade of one tree and that become our regular spot. Due to work commitments we sometimes arrived separately and it was easier to spot each other in the same place each time.
We started to notice a few regulars at Penguin but they seemed to have the same idea as us, get naked and relax. It soon became apparent that the north end of the beach was a meeting point for men interested in men. There were always one or two men bathing alone and there were many tracks into the dunes and hills that were used for "speed dating". A sure sign of the popularity of this past time the large number of cars in the car park compared to the small number of people visible on the beach.
There was an unwritten rule that male to male sex only happened out of view, so this behavior had no impact on the people who stuck to the beach. There were a few nudist couples who came to Penguin regularly and we became friends with Bill and Nicky. They were slightly older than us and were in the same situation, he did odd carpentry jobs and she was an accountant who did the books, for local firms, from home.
As with us, sometimes one or the other had to work a day or two through the week. We soon became used to the fact that I might spend the day at the beach with Bill and or Nicky and they might spend a day with Jane but without me. Or Bill might spend a day with us. Sometimes we would give each other lifts. We swapped phone numbers but didn't visit each other's homes.
In our shared fantasies, Jane and I had discussed "swapping" several times. We were both interested but were concerned about our reputations in such a small town.
