tagNonConsent/ReluctanceA Visit to the Beach

A Visit to the Beach


I'd been at the beach. It had been a warm day with lots of sunshine, few clouds, and no wind. At the beach that 'no wind' bit is important. Who wants to be turned into steak tartare by sand grinding your skin off in a stiff breeze? Not me, that was for sure.

As soon as I found out how nice the day was turning out I packed a few things and headed to the beach, determined to work on my sun-tan and get some swimming exercise. As I expected, when I got there I found a number of friends and acquaintances, people who were willing to play around. All things considered it had been a fun day. I'd even had a nice new bikini that showed off my figure to its best advantage.

The crowd on the beach was starting to dwindle as dinner time approached, and I decided to become one of those who made it dwindle. I was going to head on home, buying myself some fast-food on the way.

This was the point when I found I had a small problem with my new bikini. Not a problem big enough for me to not wear them again, but a mild irritant at the end of the day. It wouldn't even have been an irritant if I'd been expecting it. For some reason my nice new bikini retained water. You would normally expect a bathing costume to dry-out in the sun, but not my bikini. It was drenched and it was insisting on staying drenched.

I did not want to get my car-seat saturated with salt water. Or any sort of water for that matter, so you can see why I considered the water retention an irritant. I had tights I could wear, but they were a light yellow in colour. If I put them on over the bikini then they'd promptly get soaked and the light yellow material would show the water-stain. I mean, really, it would look as though I'd wet myself, so no way was I putting them on over the bikini. I was going to have to change. Fortunately I also had a pair of panties in my bag. One never knows when one might have an accident. I would just nip behind some bushes alongside the path, ditch the bikini, and slip on my panties and tights. Problem solved.

I strolled back towards my car. If my memory served me correctly there was a spot about half-way between where I was and where my car was that had a lot of dense shrubbery. The ideal place to vanish and get changed. My memory was good and the bushes looked good. I just quietly slipped between two of them and I was effectively hidden from the path and the beach. Privacy in public, you might say.

I dumped my bag on the ground and extracted my panties and tights and left them lying on top of the bag. It only took a second to drop my bikini bottom, just pushing them past my hips and letting them fall. Bending over I extracted first one leg and then the other and reached for my panties.

That's when things went a little odd. Because I had simply bent over at the waist while I was taking off the bikini I was somewhat exposed where my nether regions were concerned. At least, I was if you were standing behind me. Talk about flashing someone.

Before I could grab my panties and start stepping into them a hand landed on my back and held me while another hand reached up between my legs and also held me, and that second hand was holding me in a way I certainly did not expect to be held. At least, not without my permission.

I quite naturally made a protesting sound and straightened up. (Yes, it was a protesting sound. Not a startled squawk.) The problem I then found was that I couldn't straighten up. The hand on my back was holding me neatly in place. In hindsight, I should have just dropped to the ground and got some room between us. At the time I didn't think of that, I just sort of froze, not knowing what to do.

Whoever was behind me knew what to do, don't you worry about that. His hand was all over my pussy, rubbing and touching and stroking and slipping his fingers into me and seeming to do it all at the same time.

I started to get my wits together and turned my head to see who it was, assuming that one of the guys I knew was plating a rather nasty practical joke. No such luck. An acquaintance I could deal with. A perfect stranger, not so easy. The man was older than me but not by much. Early twenties was my guess, so only a couple of years at most. Trouble was he was also a lot bigger than me. Well, then again, most men are, but not this big. He looked huge. Of course, that might have been because of the circumstances.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded.

He had the gall to look surprised.

"You don't know?" he asked. "That's odd. I wouldn't have pegged you for a virgin at your age."

"And just what do you mean by that?" I asked, fairly sure that I'd just been insulted.

"Well, I figured you for about twenty and there aren't many twenty year old virgins running around. Seeing you are one I guess I should explain. This is what's known as foreplay, just warming up your pussy before we get more seriously acquainted."

"I know what it's called," I snarled. "The question is why are you doing it? Get your hands off me."

"If you know what it's called, why'd you ask?" A couple of fingers dipped inside me, going quite deep. "Hmm, not a virgin after all," he added, "but it does seem as though you might be ready to receive me."

"Are you a bit thick?" I railed at him. "I'm not going to receive you at all, any time. Just get your hands off me."

"Yeah, I am a bit thick," he humbly admitted. "Take a look and you can see for yourself if I'm thick enough."

I turned to give him another filthy look and saw what he suggested I see. I gave a horrified gasp and looked elsewhere, the sight of that monster branded into my brain and likely to give me nightmares. He'd dropped his bathers and he had this enormous erection, and I mean humongous. I'd never seen anything that big. A horse would appreciate that equipment. I would like to point out that I'm not a horse and didn't appreciate it. How do you describe something like that? Not in inches, let me tell you. The only real way to describe it was to say it was too big.

"You get that thing away from me," I half yelled at him. "If you try and touch me with that I'll scream."

Which promptly raised the question as to why I wasn't already screaming. Probably, I guessed, because he really hadn't been hurting me, just touching me up. That, plus the embarrassment factor, had tended to keep my mouth shut. Being attacked by that thing of his was something else entirely.

"Now don't be like that," he protested, although I think he had a lot of gall to protest. "Just relax and let me do the work. You'll find it'll all be just fine."

"The hell it will," I retorted. "There's no way I'm going - whooaaa - what are you doing?"

What he was doing was pressing the head of that behemoth against my virginal young lips, trying to push between them. (OK - maybe not quite virginal, but the same principle applies.) He'd stretched my lips wide and slapped the head of his cock against me and was now pushing.

"Just showing you how easy it is," he calmly told me. With that his hands clamped onto my hips to hold me still and he was giving another little push.

"You stop that," I hissed through gritted teeth. "You stop that now or I'll scream. I swear I will."

His answer was to push a little bit more and I could feel myself being stretched all out of shape as his cock forced its way a little further into my passage. It seemed to me it was a case of scream or be skewered. I took a big breath, preparatory to letting out an ear-splitting scream.

That rotten man did two things. He pushed in a bit harder, going even deeper, and at the same time he poked me in the ribs, causing me to lose my breath before I could scream. I tried to scream as my breath whooshed out but it was more a feeble cheep than a scream, and he laughed.

"Stop being so silly," he told me. "You're actually handling me quite nicely. Just relax and let it happen."

"Relax? How the hell am I supposed to relax with you jamming that thing inside me?" I demanded.

"Um, try harder, maybe? I'm quite relaxed. Well, part of me isn't but you'd probably be awfully disappointed if it was. Now why don't you be quiet for a few moments while I finish getting you ready?"

The sheer unadulterated gall of that statement rendered me speechless for a few moments. A few moments he took unconscionable advantage of to continue pushing his favourite toy deeper into me. He wasn't doing it in one smooth thrust. He'd tighten his grip on my hips and pull me towards him while at the same time pushing forward with his hips, driving another inch into me, and he had a lot of inches to drive. I could feel myself stretching and then stretching some more.

I was opening my mouth to try and scream again, when he gave one last push and I could feel his hairy groin rubbing against my delicate lips. He'd actually gone and done it, driving all the way into me, without splitting me in two. Or not splitting me yet, anyway.

Would you believe he then patted me on the bottom and told me I'd done well?

"Now we can get down to business," he told me.

He reached for my bikini top and unclipped it, letting my breasts spill free. They weren't free for long as he reached around and claimed them, one big hand closing over each breast. I tried to straighten up to move away from those grasping hands and found that as soon as I did that I was making that monster slide about inside me. I very hastily froze in my bent over position, while the monster behind me just laughed.

"No need to be too eager," he told me, and I promised myself that I'd find a way to place a diabolic curse on him, one that would cause his genitals to wither and die in a most excruciating way.

He just stood there, cock buried deep inside me, while he played with my breasts, apparently delighting in the feel of them. I kept expecting him to start moving but no, he just stood there, filling me and playing with my breasts.

When his hands drifted from my breasts to my hips I knew the waiting was over. His hands clamped onto me, holding me steady, and then he started slowly pulling back. He seemed to pull back a long way, and then he thrust forward, driving back home while his hands on my hips pulled me firmly towards him, helping him go deep.

That was just the start of it. He would pull slowly back, pause for a moment, and then drive home. There was no method to what he was doing, just slowly back and then return, sometimes slowly, sometimes fast. It slowly dawned on me that he was just trying me out, getting used to his new toy, getting a feel for it, you might say. Well, I might say that, for I was most certainly feeling what he was doing. Slow or fast, pulling back or pushing in, I was feeling every little movement and each little movement was doing strange things to me. So were the bigger movements. I damn near screamed with the excitement of it when he pulled almost all the way back and the drove all the way back into me with one savage thrust.

That thrust was his way of saying playtime was over. Now he was really going to work, his cock pounding me with a hard and fast rhythm, really giving me something to think about. If I'd been capable of thinking. All I was capable of doing was feeling his cock driving into me, stirring up the fire he'd lit inside me, building on the arousal he'd started, trying to drive me insane with excitement.

I might like to point out that I wasn't cooperating with him. I wasn't pushing to meet him or anything like that, and I had no intention of doing so. Not that it made any difference. His hands on my hips were pulling me towards him every time he thrust home. My active participation wasn't required as he was handling that for me. All heart, that man.

After a few minutes of this activity I was right out of it, aware of nothing but my excitement and my burning need. I was giving a small cry with each thrust, unable to stop myself. (They were cries of protest, by the way. Really they were. Not lustful cries of appreciation of the depredations he was performing on my body.)

I was too far gone to even notice when he change his passionate performance, a new urgency creeping into it. The fact that he was on his end game registered with me when he started jerking like crazy and I could feel a hot splash deep inside me, and then I was climaxing, mouth open as I silently screamed my way through it.

The great oaf withdrew, and actually patted my bottom as he did so.

"Good girl," he told me. "You handled that very well. Maybe we'll meet again sometime."

Just like that he was gone, leaving me standing there feeling stunned. I used that soaking wet bikini to wipe myself down a bit and hastily put on my panties and tights before anyone else came along. I just couldn't believe that had happened. I headed for my car and home.

I couldn't help wondering if I'd ever meet that man again, and if I did would I recognize him and would he recognize me? I was bent over and looking behind me when I looked at him and had no idea of his height or much about him at all. Just big was all I registered. As for him, well the parts of me that he saw weren't parts that he'd easily recognize, now were they?

I wanted my dinner. For some reason I was really hungry. Too much exercise, I guess.

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