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THE BEACH BOY
Max had been walking for hours... well technically he'd been walking for weeks. He'd started his journey at Gold Beach, the big tourist town on the Hastings River. Doing twenty or so kilometres a day, walking north on the firm wet sand, he'd done over three hundred kilometres so far, visiting and passing smaller towns along the way.
Today he had been up at first light and on the move for several hours. He'd already done some good sketches and a very fine watercolour he was pretty proud of - a study of the view behind him - headlands disappearing in the haze, long curving beaches, and a loan palm tree in the foreground - so beautiful and so desolate in its way.
It'll make an excellent painting, he thought to himself. Big and framed, ready to be hung on a lounge room, some rich woman would pay a few grand for something good.
Last night he'd stopped at Morgans Head, a sleepy village of a dozen houses and a general store that boasted a petrol pump! It was a pretty little place, nestled in paradise and so far off the beaten track, the only people who lived there were adventurous old retired couples and alternative livers (who liked the freedom of being able to grow dope in their back yards). Their only visitors were the very occasional surfer looking for that perfect point-break.
Max had slept the night at the home of a cool old hippy couple. The friendly beatniks had fed him, let him use the bath (a cast-iron tub under the water-tank in their backyard), and he got the best sleep he'd had for ages on a plush old daybed on their back porch - absolute luxury after days of sleeping under the stars. At first light, he was up and on his way, refreshed and ready for whatever the day would bring.
He'd been on the move for several hours when, around mid-morning, something flashed bright in the distance - sun glinting off glass or metal.
Probably a park ranger thought Max ideally... or a beer bottle. No way anyone else would be way out here... there's no roads...
He couldn't know it was the windscreen of Gloria Peplinska's battered old 4WD and that Gloria was looking his way as well - a tiny dark dot on the broad white beach, obscured by distance and heat haze.
Every Wednesday during the balmy summer months, Gloria came to her special secret cove with lunch and drinks and all her toys charged up and ready to go. The beautiful MILF had just been for her morning swim and, skin tingling from the salt and surf was laying naked on her towel, drying off in the sun. That was when she saw the tiny figure in the distance.
Imagine it's a virile young lover, she thought, as she studied the little dark spot on the long white beach. Gloria's imagination was vivid and she liked to use her fingers for her first climax of the day. She started rubbing herself voluptuously.
She had never seen anyone on her beach in the twenty years she'd lived here. A few wild dogs or a kangaroo occasionally, there was even a pig once, Matt Horan's big old sow that had got out of its pen, but never another person.
Her talented fingers expertly fondled her clitoris, building her excitement, as she built the sexy scenario in her head... Mmmm... oh yeah... a handsome well-hung lover, coming to fuck me... mmmm... use my body like I'm a whore...
Gloria had always had a huge sex drive and, since she turned forty it had become even more so... more and more demanding the older she got. She would normally rub her hot horny twat to the first orgasm of the day about now and then have a little nap - only to wake up a little later and do it again - maybe with a vibrator this time... or her lovely vibrating egg ...perhaps the big black dildo, depending on how she felt. Gloria brought herself off a dozen times a day during her Wednesday marathon of masturbation.
The little human spec in the distance was slowly got bigger... getting closer.
Mmmm, oooh yeah... come to me baby, she thought happily, her clitoris quivering between her fingers.
Gloria's husband had walked out two years ago leaving Gloria and her daughter to their own devices and she was glad he was gone. The bastard had been a lousy father, a mean husband and a selfish lover.
Her sex life had become a strictly solo affair after that and that suited Gloria just fine. Sure, sometimes she wanted a real cock inside her so bad she would have paid money - any random cock would have done - but she had pretty much resigned herself to never finding a partner. Being a middle-aged woman with a teenage girl made it hard enough to meet anyone decent and living a hundred miles from nowhere didn't help either.
...and it's was not all bad, she thought happily, retrieving her cream coloured vibrator out of her basket of toys. These solitary days of self-pleasure on her secluded beach were the high point of the week for the sexy MILF.
Over the next half hour, as the little figure got slowly bigger, she recognised it was a man.
Oooo fuck yesss, she thought. He'll come to me and take me and fuck me... fuck me hard...
Gasping in ecstasy, Gloria slid the big buzzing dildo in and out of her hyper-excited pussy, fucking herself like the mature nymphomaniac she was and when, after a little while longer, she saw that it was a young... mmm, and, oooh yes indeed... a handsome young man... she came.
"Ooooh fuck... yes, yes, yesssSSSSSS...," she cried as the waves of pleasure rocked her incredible body. Arching her back, the big white vibe deep in her cunt, Gloria wallowed in the earth-shaking orgasm she was giving herself.
As though in a dream she continued to fuck her steaming spasming cunt as the young stranger drew abreast of where she was laying. Then shivering like it was cold, she extracted the pulsing toy, turned it off and put it back in her basket just as he looked up in her direction.
God, he's so good looking, she thought excitedly as he turned off the hard-packed sand and came towards her.
His face was kind and romantic like only teenage boys can be, before the world turns them fat and sour (like her ex). His young body shone with health - trim and muscular and deeply tanned. His hair was long and blonde, hanging past his shoulders like a surfy.
The young adonis was wearing a pair of loose-fitting cotton shorts bleached white by sun and salt. He wasn't wearing anything else but the rucksack over his shoulders that looked as though it could be holding all his earthly possessions. She could see a tent and a bedroll, a length of rope and a water bottle and some sort of long tripod apparatus strapped to the back (Max's portable art easel).
Gloria stretched out luxuriously and waited. How windswept he looks, she thought to herself, brushing a sandy hand over her hard nipples. Her body was already looking for more.
As he got closer Max finally saw the reflection he'd been following was coming from the windscreen of a car parked up on a small rocky headland. 4WD would have been the only way to get way out here and the rusty old Range Rover looked as if it had done the journey a few times before.
It's probably an old wreck that's been dumped he figured and, on an impulse, he went to have a look.
It wasn't until he was almost on top of her that he saw the nude sunbather. In the shelter of the rocky bluff, her beautiful naked body glowed, toned and voluptuous on a golden coloured beach towel.
The woman was up on her elbows watching him approach. Apart from full red lips slightly parted in a sexy pout, her face was unreadable behind large dark sunglasses.
