Nude On The Beach

I'm a well behaved young woman. Honest I am. I don't do drugs or go to wild parties. I'm so normal and well behaved that at times I probably seem boring. I mean, I just don't get into silly situations.

So that's why I'm finding it rather hard to come to terms with the fact that I'm standing on a deserted beach with no clothes on. No clothes, no bathers, not even a towel to wrap around myself. Oh, yes. Also add in no purse, no phone, no handbag, no shoes, no car keys and, for all I know, no blasted car.

It all started innocently enough. I had a day off work and it was shaping up to be a beautiful sunny day, so I went to the beach. Now there are plenty of beaches in close reach, but they're always fairly busy, so I went further afield to find a relatively deserted beach. I wanted to work on my suntan and I was going for minimal tan lines, but you can't really loosen your top on a busy beach. The beach bums gather like sand fleas.

I cruised down the coast a little. I knew of several beaches that were generally unused as there were no shops or other conveniences close at hand. That's the sort of place I wanted.

The beach I eventually chose was quite deserted. There was me and the seagulls and that was it. There was a nice stretch of flat sand along the front of the water, but I'd been caught out before, setting up shop on that nice flat sand. You turn your head for two minutes and the tide comes racing in and floods all your stuff.

Keeping that in mind, I set my stuff up where little hills of sands started. I picked one little hill that had a real nice slope, spread my towel on it and settled down to tan. Topless. Daring for me, but there wasn't anyone around.

Now the day was hot and so was I, and the water looked lovely and cool. I decided to take a dip but as I was getting up a little voice whispered to me.

"You've always wanted to go skinny-dipping. Now's your chance. You're all alone here. Go for it."

It's true. I've heard of other girls boasting about going skinny-dipping and I'd always wondered what it would be like. I'd just never been game to go while there's been other people around. But there weren't any now, and it was really a nice day. Now or never, I thought, dropped my bikini bottom and bolted into the water.

Geez, I must have looked funny. Even though there was no-one around I was running for the water as though being chased, and I had my hands in front of me, trying to cover myself. Anyone with a camera would have had a YouTube sensation.

Once I was in the water I relaxed. The water felt marvellous and I felt greatly daring. I swam and floated and swam some more, enjoying the cool water and the heat of the sun.

Eventually, I headed back to shore, keeping an eye out for anyone but the beach still appeared to be deserted. Once out of the water I raced to where I left my clothes and there was nothing there.

Nothing, zip, nada. Not a sign to show that I'd even been there. I panicked for a moment, but then caught hold of myself. All I had to do was think it through.

The big clue, of course, was the fact that there was no sign that I'd even been there. Obviously, I hadn't. I'd mismarked the area where I thought I'd set up. All I had to do was walk along the beach a little and I was going to find my stuff. Easy.

Dead easy, until I had to decide which way to walk. Whichever way I went there was a fifty/fifty chance that I was walking away from my clothes. I bit my lip, tossed a mental coin and chose a direction.

A couple of hundred steps later I stopped, backtracked to my starting point, and walked a couple of hundred steps in the other direction. I was now really starting to panic.

My situation was not improved when I spotted this guy walking towards me. He was big and tanned and appeared to be just wearing shorts. Deciding discretion was called for I nipped behind the nearest dune and waited for him to go past.

He didn't go past. He must have seen me duck behind the dune because when he reached it he just strolled around behind it and looked at me. So here I am, naked, crouched down behind the dune, while this arrogant swine looks down at me with a smirk.

"Do you have a problem, kid?" he asked.

"I'm not a kid and what makes you think I have a problem," I practically spat at him.

"You look like a kid all curled up like that," he said, rather rudely, in my opinion. "The fact that you're curled up in a ball, naked, and hiding behind a sand dune does tend to suggest that you have a problem of some sort."

Then he pointed down at me and added, "Did you know your foot has slipped? You're not actually hiding what you think you're hiding."

With that he reached down, grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. With him holding my arm there was no way I could cover myself properly, and he got a good eyeful.

Before I could yell at him he started yacking again, and I could just tell he was laughing at me.

"My, my. With a figure like that you're certainly no kid, I'll grant you that. A very fine pair of breasts."

Was I supposed to be flattered that he liked my breasts? I suppose I was, in a way, but what I really wanted to do was slap him.

"I'll be fine," I told him. "Will you please just go away?"

"All in good time," he said. "There's a couple of things I know that you might like to know as well. For a start, did you know that there's a strong cross current in the water here. It could drag you quite a bit further than you expect."

"I'd already worked that out," I said coldly. I hadn't, but it explained why I couldn't find my clothes. I hadn't gone far enough.

"Yes, well the second thing that you might like to know is that there's a yellow and blue beach towel and some clothing back that-away," he said jerking his thumb behind him. "I assume that they're yours. Come along and I'll show you where they are."

He turned and set off in the direction he'd come from. After a couple of steps he turned to see if I was following. I wasn't. I was still just standing there, wondering what to do. The son-of-a-bitch patted his leg and said, "Come on. There's a good girl," and stood there waiting for me to move. Did he think I was a dog or something? Fuming I fell in behind him.

I very quickly decided that walking behind him was no good. He kept turning around and looking me over, and I couldn't really walk along hunched up and trying to cover myself. I got a move on and passed him. I probably would have felt a lot better about that if I hadn't heard him say "nice tush," very quietly. I'll swear he deliberately said it just loud enough for me to hear.

We strolled down the beach, me acutely aware that he was behind me and checking out my behind as we walked. I couldn't help it. My bottom was giving this sexy little twitch from side to side as we went. I could feel it bouncing back and forth. It was because of the way the sand dragged at my feet. It wasn't deliberate.

We seemed to walk for hundreds of yards and I was starting to get worried. What if he was leading me somewhere? Before I could really get worked up I hear him calling to me. I turned and he'd stopped about fifty paces back.

"Aren't these what you're looking for?" he asked, indicting a space between the dunes.

I doubled back and there was my stuff. I'd been fulminating at him so much I'd walked straight past them. You can imagine my relief when I saw my clothes. No more nakedness. No more having that man looking me over and making me feel all squirmy inside. Clothes, here I come.

I didn't forget my manners.

"Thank you," I said turning to speak to him one last time. "I might have been searching all afternoon if you hadn't helped me. I had no idea that I'd drifted so far away."

"Not a problem," he said. "A kiss and we'll call accounts squared."

Hold on. I didn't remember offering a reward.

"A kiss?" I asked suspiciously.

"That's all. Just a simple kiss. Scout's honour."

He help up his hand in what I suppose was the scouts salute. What the hell. A kiss wouldn't kill me. I turned up my face. He leaned down and his mouth closed over mine. And one hand went to the small of my back and pulled me tight against him while the other close around one cheek of my bottom and squeezed.

Then he kissed me and I could feel myself plastered along the full length of him. My breasts were squashed against his chest and my hips were tight against his groin. Tight enough to realise he had an erection. Even while he was kissing me, and boy, could he kiss, I was pushing his hand away from my bottom. He didn't try to stop me, but obediently released me and I was able to adjust my position so I was no longer hard up against his groin, much to my relief.

He finally pulled his lips away from mine, smiled, said, "Not bad. Just one more," and kissed me again.

His hand closed over my bottom again and pulled me tight, and I found out why he'd been so compliant when I'd pushed his hand away earlier. He'd taken the opportunity to drop his shorts and now when he pressed me against his groin I could feel his exposed erection hot and hard against my lower tummy.

I started squirming against it, trying to pull away, but both his hands were now on my bottom, holding me firmly. For one horrified moment I thought he might just pick me up and lower me onto his erection. He didn't though.

What he did do was move his hands from my bottom to my hips. Then he sort of lifted me and swung me sidewards at the same time and I found myself being lowered onto my towel.

I wrenched my mouth away from his, gasping.

"A kiss, you said. Just a kiss."

He shook his head, trying to look contrite.

"I'm such a fearful liar," he told me. "You don't know what a trial it is to me."

Ha. Like he looked worried. He had me flat on my back and was lying half on me, half between my legs. And his erection was pressing against me in a very familiar way. I opened my mouth to protest at what he was doing and his mouth covered mine again.

I was reduced to slapping at his back while his hand came down between us, familiarising itself with my mound and parting my lips so that his erection could get even more familiar.

I felt his cock pressing between my lips, seeking my passage. He was still kissing me, and I had my hands up against his chest, trying to push him away. I might as well have been trying to push a wall.

His hands came up and closed over my breasts. He squeezed them, teasing them, working on my nipples so that they stood up hard. And while he was doing this I could feel him, easing his way into me, his hardness pushing past my softness, taking control of my body.

I thought he'd never stop pushing into me. I could almost feel his cock at the back of my throat he seemed to have entered me so far. Then he gave one last hard push and I could feel his groin rubbing hard against me.

With that, he stopped kissing me and pushed himself up, still keeping his hands on my breasts. Looking down between our bodies I could see where he was inside me, his pubic hair brushing against my mons.

"Take it out," I told him, trying to sound firm but I'm fairly sure just sounding nervous.

He laughed.

"We've only just begun," he said. "If I thought you meant it, I would, but I could tell you really wanted this. Now watch, and move with me."

If he could tell I wanted this he could tell more than I could. I could have sworn I had just wanted him to go away and leave me alone. I found myself following his instructions and watching, and while I watched this great fat cock came sliding smoothly out of me, leaving an indelible memory behind it.

He didn't take it right out, unfortunately. He seemed to pause, and I could feel the head of his cock just inside my lips. If I'd had room to move I could have pulled away and watched him pop out like a cork from a bottle, but I was pinned against the ground. After hovering for a second to give me a good look he pushed in again, this time driving all the way in with a quick stroke, sending little vibrations racing through me.

OK. Theoretically I did not want this. My body seemed to have other ideas. I just hadn't realised how aroused I'd become strolling down the beach naked, knowing that there was a man walking behind me admiring my figure. When he went driving back into me my hips humped of their own accord, pushing up hard to meet his thrust.

I don't know anyone else's views on the matter, but I found it as erotic as hell watching his cock drive into me while I arched up to meet it. Fortunately, he'd shifted his hands away from my breasts and had them placed on the ground on either side of me, supporting his weight as he humped me.

He very quickly established a nice comfortable rhythm, driving down hard and fast and then taking his time withdrawing. I was whimpering and complaining while this was going on, making sure that he knew that I was doing this under protest, but I was also responding, bucking up hard against him every time he drove down and holding tight when he withdrew.

It was probably to shut me up that he started kissing me again. He leaned forward and lay fully on me and his lips took mine. Rather forcefully, too. His hands worked their way between our bodies so that he could play with my breasts again, and all the time his cock kept hammering away, rousing me a little more with each vigorous stroke.

So now I was being assaulted by his mouth, his hands and his erection. Each of these assaults would have stirred me up to a certain degree, but with all three happening at once I was history.

My mouth and tongue were duelling with his, my breasts and nipples blossoming and letting me know they enjoyed the attention and my pussy had completely yielded right of ownership to the invader. As far as my pussy was concerned, what that man's cock wanted to do it could.

And, oh boy, wasn't it doing it. It pounded me, lifting me higher with every stroke. I was going to climax soon, and my pussy couldn't wait. It was busy humping up against that cock just as eagerly as could be.

I suppose I should be gratified that if I had to be ravished I was at least being ravished by someone who knew what he was doing. For some reason, that just made me angrier, but still not angry enough to put up a concerted effort to stop him. After he'd finished, however. . .

I screamed when I felt him bite my breast. He latched onto one, biting hard enough to leave a bruise, and then switched to the other to repeat the crime. Damn it. How was I supposed to explain bite marks on my boobs to my boyfriend? This bastard just had no consideration.

He did have a fine stamina, though, and he was still pounding my pussy, giving me what my boyfriend once crudely described as a pussy pummelling. He just kept right on going, and I was gasping and squealing now, totally unable to control myself. I couldn't even gather my thoughts together long enough to protest, with everything just reduced to that cock jumping around inside me, driving me wild.

It was about that stage that I just totally lost control. My climax just jumped me and I went with it, lost to everything but the sensations sweeping through my body, lifting me and carrying me away. Afterwards I just lay there, shuddering lightly, trying to come to terms with what had happened.

Eventually I gathered my wits together and I turned on him. Enjoying it and having a climax were beside the point. I'd said no and he shouldn't have done it and I was going to let him have it.

And he wasn't there. The cowardly swine had departed while I was still dazed by my climax. He'd just up and gone, without even a simple thank-you. Not that I wanted a thank-you, but he should have stayed and said something. As it was all I could do was get dressed and go home, sulking.

Life is so unfair at times.