NOTE: This story does not contain a lot of actual graphic sexual activity, and it happens late in the piece.
NOTE 2: Parts of this story actually happened.
It was a warm winter's day in Sydney, Australia, and I was at the beach for an off-season swim. The water was cold, but the sun was high and bright, and there was a smattering of people dotted across the sand, soaking up the rays. A few were in swimsuits but most were fully clothed...a very different picture to the one that you'd see at the height of summer.
Rather than toweling off, I decided to get some exercise and opted to walk myself dry by heading up the grassy hill and park adjacent to the beach.
There was a concrete path through the middle of the park, popular with walkers and joggers. But being a winter's day during the working week, there weren't too many people around.
I wore only my revealing, tight-fitting Speedo swimsuit, and I was still wet after throwing myself in the ocean and swimming around. I left my towel and clothes on the beach, and headed to the park.
I was in good shape from the running, swimming and gym work that I did all year round. I was lean and muscular, and looked much better than most 25-year-old guys. I was tanned and fit, with longish brown hair, which was slicked back from my swim.
I also filled out my tight Speedos very well, and I certainly enjoyed it when I caught women checking me out at the beach, especially those that weren't shy about letting their gaze linger on my ample crotch.
In Australia at least, there were more of those women around than you might think. I would also occasionally "accidentally" let my dick slip out of the side of my Speedos while sunning myself on the beach, which would usually prompt any observant women to quickly pretend to take a few selfies with their phones while obviously getting shots of my errant and uncontained manhood.
The hilly park near the beach ran directly along the coastline, ambling up to a large rocky outcropping, with huge flat rocks that looked directly over the heaving ocean below. There was a small fence along the side of the outcropping, but many people easily stepped over it to take photos standing near the cliff edges.
Some would also sit or sun themselves amongst the rocks. The rocky area was dotted with scrub, bushes and small trees, and was a popular summer spot for dog walkers and tourists.
As I walked briskly up the pathway through the park, I passed a group of three female exercisers in skin-tight gym pants and running shoes chatting animatedly amongst themselves.
They slowed their chatter as I approached and they all had a good, long, up-and-down look at me, probably surprised to see a man clad in just a small Speedo swimsuit heading toward them in the middle of winter. They let out a few good-natured whistles and cat-calls.
"Looking good," said one of the exercisers.
"Not exactly shy, are we?" said another.
"Lost your clothes?" The shortest and prettiest of the three then looked directly at my crotch, and smiled.
"How's the water?" she asked.
"Very, very cold," I smiled back.
She looked down at my crotch again.
"Mmmmm, it's obviously not that cold," she said, and her friends laughed and pushed her in surprise at her reference to the sizeable bulge in my swimming trunks.
The sun had warmed me up considerably and, thankfully, I was back to my normal, apparently entertainingly, impressive size. The women laughed and kept walking, looking back frequently over their shoulders at me, big smiles across their attractive faces.
Still surprised at this bold remark, and feeling more than a little pleasantly objectified, I continued up the path and headed over to the rocky outcropping. I walked across some smaller rocks, and noticed that there was a group of women on the huge flat rocky area looking out over the ocean.
There were four of them: two looked to be in their late forties, while the other two were much younger, perhaps in their very late teens, eighteen or nineteen or so.
They talked loudly as they took photos, and directed each other into various poses. All the while, they laughed raucously. Some small backpacks and carry bags were in a pile nearby.
As I got closer, I realised that they spoke a foreign language, which I guessed was Russian.
This was pre-COVID, and I assumed that they were tourists enjoying the winter sunshine and getting some photos of their trip to Australia. Compared to winter in Russia, this probably felt like a balmy summer day.
The older women were big, brassy and curvy, with long, obviously dyed blonde hair. One wore a thin white singlet top, which strained under the weight of her large, bra-less breasts, along with a tight-fitting cheetah-print mini-skirt stretched to breaking point over an enormous backside.
The other older woman wore tight jeans, sneakers and a very snug t-shirt, again tested by a huge set of pendulous, bra-less breasts. In short, they looked like classic MILFS, though not quite as hot, and considerably larger, than the ones you'd see in online porn videos.
The teenage girls were lean and tall, one with long, straight sandy brown hair and the other with much darker and shorter curls. They had great bodies, both shown off enticingly in sprayed-on fitness pants and midriff-bearing gym-style halter tops that covered ample but not large breasts.
They were far less curvy than the older women, but still extremely alluring. My guess was that this group consisted of two friends and their daughters.
As I walked past them along the fence line, about twenty metres or so away, the older woman in the cheetah-print mini-skirt caught sight of me. Her jaw visibly dropped, and she grabbed the other older woman by the arm. She pointed directly at me, and both women then covered their mouths in surprise and burst out laughing.
The younger girls saw the women doubled over in hysterics and then looked over at me as well. Far less exuberant, they pushed each other gently and both smiled while clearly checking me out.
Once again, in the space of about ten minutes, I had been openly ogled, leered at, and laughed at by a group of very uninhibited women. There was no concealing their flagrant enjoyment at seeing a wet, muscular man in nothing but a pair of tight Speedos.
Starting to feel very vulnerable and exposed, but also excited by the response that my not-far-from-nude body was getting, I considered returning to the beach to put my clothes back on.
While I weighed this up, I saw the women briefly confer with each other, laughing wildly. Then the woman in the mini-skirt walked quickly towards me, her tits swinging enticingly from side to side. She held up a mobile phone.
As she got closer, the woman spoke in broken, thickly accented English, and shamelessly looked me up and down.
"You take photo," she said, making it sound more like a command than a question.
She pointed at the other women, all of whom were staring at me and giggling, and said, "Take photo of us." She gestured around at the sky, cliffs and ocean.
She obviously wanted me to take an expansive photo of the group all together, rather than them just taking a restrictive selfie. I'd done this many times previously for international tourists in the past, but not while clad in only a pair of tight, butt-hugging, barely-there Speedos.
