Summer Series Ch. 01

Author's Notes:

All characters in sexual situations are at least eighteen years of age.

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I sat back and wondered why I loved summer so much, as I gazed from my banana chair perched on top of the first dune back from the water. From there, I could see miles of white sand covered by just a couple of feet of water in most places, with a few deeper holes, ideal for a dip. Although this view is what I consider the most beautiful in the world, I closed my eyes and had a huge range of visual and emotional memories come flooding through my brain. I tried to remember my very first image of the beach and summer.

I remembered when I must have been around four years old; playing in the back yard of the house I grew up in, in the small country town where I lived until I was ten. Summertime then meant an all-encompassing warmth, the freedom to take your shirt off, playing down by the river, setting up the kiddie pool and slippery dip in the back yard, staying up late, parties with friends of the family, and some time in the big city with a chance to go to the beach.

I enjoyed the pool in the back yard the most. How much more fun can you get than that? The sun, the slippery dip, the splashing, and the wet ground between your toes as you line up for another slide into the pool. Little did I know that there would be greater pleasures in life, not as simple or pure, but better just the same.

The river was a fantastic place too, swinging from the willow tree branches that bent down into the water, riding around on inflated tractor tubes, savouring hot chips that cost ten times less than they do now, and imagining I could live in a shale cave behind the reeds that lined the river. It was also a place to get away from the parents to read girlie mags that some kid pinched from their dad, smoke cigarettes (no health warnings in those days), and check out the older, more developed girls. Those girls occasionally did a bit of flashing, and our group took turns daring each other to kiss the girls that were our own age.

When the family travelled eight hours to the city once a year to visit our relatives, we would also visit the beach. The size of everything in the city was such a contrast to our small country town, so were the big bare breasts in abundance during summer at the pine tree lined beach.

So, from early on, I loved summer. There was just something special about the freedom and adventure that wasn't there in winter, and that internal glow that you only get from sunshine. Above all, I remember the way females seemed to have extra hormones and a need to kiss, flash, and bare more skin. No wonder there is more breeding in the natural world in the warmer months.

When I was ten, I moved from our small country town to the place where I still live today – a coastal area with an abundance of lakes and beaches – about two hours from the city. This meant many summers of surfing, snorkelling, skiing, sunshine, boobs and g-strings. All of that added up to many summers of feeling fit, healthy – and horny.

Once I turned eighteen, and gained some independence, my favourite pastime was making my way through the bushes near the beach via the not too well worn tracks, where the sunlight only came through in very narrow beams. From there, I could see the dunes that rolled up and down the beach – just above the flat section that stretched right down to the water – and the women who lay in the hollows of these dunes.

Once in position, I would just wait for movement in my own secret, shaded world that was such a contrast to the sunlit beach and the noise from the waves and people. I could see all the women – some alone, some in groups of two or more. They couldn't see much of each other, but I could see all of them.

When they first got to the beach, I imagined – as I looked at all those lovely women – the thoughts going through their minds. I could imagine them trying to pick out the right spot where no one could see them, but they could have the freedom to expose themselves. I also thought, if they really didn't want any one to see them, they simply would not expose themselves at all. Therefore, there was something about exposing themselves that appealed to them. They could have claimed they didn't want tan lines, but unless they were having someone look at their tits enough to care, why bother? In my mind, they were horny girls who liked having their tits out – with the chance of someone seeing them.

The moments surrounding when they first exposed their breasts were the most exciting for them, I imagine. If they had heard, "what are you doing", "hi there", or "nice tits" at that precise moment, they would surely have had heart failure. I expected that they would secretly like to be fully exposed and appreciated in every way, but would be too timid to pursue such a fantasy.

This was as daring as those women would get, and although almost all of them were great to look at, it was that boldness and the pushing it to their limit that turned me on. It also compelled me to expose myself, hence my board shorts pushed down my thighs with my dick out, as I knelt in the cool sand. Although there was a chance that someone could still see me from the dunes, there wasn't that much of a chance. From behind, though, anyone from the houses could have easily seen me if they had ventured too close.

I often wondered if any woman in the surrounding houses might have spotted me one day and had a little play herself, watching me caress myself to a fully aroused state. I never looked behind, so I never would have known. I only looked at the valleys of the dunes in front of me, laden with brown shiny flesh.

I watched as they turned from one position to another, their breasts swaying in slow motion, like a wave ebbing out to sea. I drank in the sight of their butts and hips, with ascetic curves like the dunes, and the sheen on their sweaty, lotion covered bodies, like the ocean at sunset.

I would work myself up as much as I could, and prolong it as much as possible – sometimes it must have been hours. I watched pair of breasts after pair of breasts, hot arse after hot arse and gorgeous woman after gorgeous woman. I would be stimulated to such a point – with every vein in my body bulging – that it would only take one of these intriguing women to brush sand from her breasts before I would release a strangled cum free into the air.

The most exciting one of those occasions was when I ventured to the southern end of the beach one day. I had noticed a couple of women going down there around some rocks about a week previous, and then not appearing at the other side. I didn't think much of it at the time, but on this day I saw one of the most gorgeous women I have ever seen – with curves to die for – and she also disappeared behind the rock. What was going on? I wondered.

I decided to venture over some rocks, around the secluded bay and behind the rocks where she disappeared for a closer look. I couldn't see a thing to indicate where she could have disappeared – no cave, and no path other than the well-worn one around to the next beach.

Then I noticed slight signs of wear heading straight up the large rock pillar.

Could she be up there? She had to be. I perused the landscape and realised there was a ledge, above the platform on top of the pillar. I walked up the beach to see if I could figure out how to get to that ledge. When I looked back on the scene from further down the beach, I could see that houses lined the top of the cliff.

The only access to that ledge was another five-minute walk further up the beach, and then along the backyards up to the top of the cliff. My heart was already beating fast with nervous adrenalin. Would something ruin my plan of making it to the top of that cliff? Would I be embarrassed walking through someone's back yard?

I couldn't let anything get in the way, there are just some things you must do in life. I reasoned that if any one stopped me, I would tell them I lived just a few of houses up and didn't think anyone would mind me cutting through their back yards. I thought, Woo hoo, lets go!. The adrenalin was making me feel so alive.

Cutting through the back yards was easy, not even close to a problem. What I forgot to think about was how I could stand in someone's back yard looking over a ledge. Each step that I took made my fear of failure subside. I could see that there were hedges between the house I was headed towards and the cliff. Luck was on my side – as it often was when I had steely determination.

There I was in my own little sanctuary with a surrounding of hedges, vine-covered lattice, flowers beds, and concrete seats situated in an arc, as if waiting for an audience to watch the sea. The spot was shaded and hidden from the outside world, and when I sat on a seat, the concrete was nice and cool. I just hoped the owners wouldn't see me and call the police.

From where I sat, the view was magnificent – miles of deep dark blue water, capped by white where the waves broke on the beach and around the sandstone all along the coastline. Below me was an even more spectacular sight, a goddess laying east to west, waiting to be adored.

She was facing the water, which meant I could admire her with no chance of her looking my way. What a sight she was, with her long, smooth, brown legs that ended in a black g-string stretched around her glorious curves. Her stomach was flat with no tone, and her sides pulled in to a narrow waist, which accentuated her hips and her breasts even more. Her breasts almost looked too full, covering almost every inch of her chest and spilling over her sides and collarbones. I could tell by the way her wide tits moved that they must have been heavy. To add even more to the illusion, her nipples and the almost non-existent halos were the smallest I had seen.

Not only was her body the best I had ever seen naked, the sight further accented by a shiny anklet and leather wristbands, but she was also beautiful. Her long wavy hair was as black as a raven, which just seemed to fit so well with her coffee skin and g-string.

Then I realized, Wait a second, I know this woman.

When I was at school, she used to flirt with me and I used to flirt right back.

Fuck, I was hard. My instincts told me to go down there, say nothing and just fuck her until I couldn't fuck any more.

I needed to calm myself. What a waste if she rejected me, when I had this sight to enjoy. I needed to get my cock out, right then and there. I threw caution to the wind and took my pants completely off.

Fuck, I was alive.

I can't remember blinking as I stared at her; I didn't want to miss a millisecond. I slowly massaged my balls and shook my cock all about. With every slight movement of this gorgeous woman, I wanted to roll my eyes back and cum – but I didn't want it to be over.

I didn't need any stimulation to be as hard as a rock and close to cumming. I was actually fighting not to cum, so I could savour the moment.

Then she rolled over, and halfway through her motion I hit the ground. My cock was pressed hard into the grass, my heart pulsing so hard I could almost hear the blood being pumped around my body. My breathing was extremely heavy, moving the grass in front of my mouth.

I wondered if she had seen me, and whether I should have just stay there, as it would be better to just be spotted than to be seen diving away. After a few breathless moments, I slowly inched forward through the grass, until I could see her.

The coast was clear, she was on her front but she wasn't looking my way. She was reading – and what an advertisement for literature it was with her perfect orbs behind the open book. I had a clear view of her taut face in the new position, her full lips turned up into a slight smile as those Cleopatra eyes gazed upon the pages of her book.

I must have looked crazy, with my arse and balls bared to anyone that might walk behind me, and slowly humping the ground watching her. It was almost painful not to sit up and stroke my cock until I came. I couldn't, though, because she might see me, and then it would be all over.

She lay there on her stomach reading, her breasts knocking into each other as she turned each page. She had her legs spread open, with the inside of her thighs forming an inviting arrow formation ending at her pussy. Her arse was as round as her breasts, and accentuated by the over-exaggerated dip in her lower back. She wasn't really toned anywhere except for the two vertical muscles in her lower back and the foot long section behind her knees, but I couldn't imagine any woman better.

Then a strange thing happened. As I was humping up and down, she started doing the same thing in unison. Was it some sort of mental telepathy? Had I been focusing in on her so strongly that she had picked up my thoughts? Had she picked up my pheromones wafting through the air? The most logical answer was that she was reacting to the book she was reading. What I would have given to read what was turning her on.

I could imagine coming home from work, catching her dry humping, pulling her g-string aside, and sliding my cock in to ride her movements while she continued to read. I could also imagine her turning and smiling, happy I had caught her in that horny mood. I love a woman who is confident with her own sexuality.

I noticed her brushing her boobs, and thought at first she must have had sand on them, but after the third time and very erect pair of nipples, I knew that wasn't the case. She then lay the book over and slid both arms down to her waist, slipping her thumbs under the g-strings' waistband. Her breasts were squashed forward as she wriggled out of the restraints of those little black straps of material.

Once again, I had to duck for cover as she rolled over. When I looked again, she was squatting and looking tentatively in all directions. Then, apparently satisfied, she slowly stood upright. She took one last look left and right before she cupped her breast with her left hand, while her right hand went to work on her pussy, causing her knees to give way slightly.

Come on, this is too good to be true, I thought to myself. It was very difficult to believe I was actually watching this improbable, daring display. It only lasted thirty seconds at the most before she lay back down, and there weren't that many people on the beach that day, but still...

I was in true shock as I straddled the concrete chair, the rough texture on my balls adding to the copious amount of physical and mental stimulation that was making my head spin. I stroked my cock from tip to base in time with her strokes up and down the length of her pussy. As she got faster, so did I. I had never seen the head of my cock so engorged.

I had to shift my hand down my shaft to stop myself from cumming, and as I did, she changed her hand movements to a sideways motion across her clit. My fist was banging into my balls and my cock had a rigid sway as my hand was pumping furiously at the bottom half of the shaft. The sight of her breasts in a wild fight to keep stable, her hand like a blur, the small heavy droplets sent into the air, and the glistening wetness on her thighs sent me over the edge.

Fuck this, I thought, I have to cum! My focus changed from just her to the fact that I was outside naked and surrounded by openness, as I stared straight up into the big blue sky. Then my fist hit hard into my balls and pleasure filled me up, sending me to dream land. I groaned, not caring about making a huge noise at that stage – I was gone.

I could hear moaning mixing with my groaning. I had to force my head back down, because I wanted to see her as well as hear her. Her back was arched, her legs shaking – and she was looking straight at me with a look like she was almost going to cry. She was staring at my cock, and I knew why once I joined her in viewing it. I was spewing heavy, thick white cum, some spurting, but most of it just running down to coat my cock and hand.

She screamed again, her fingers pinching her nipples, and her face contorted as she looked straight into my eyes, with a tear slowly escaping hers. She just lay there shaking and staring, with a steady stream of saltwater making its way down her cheek.

I stood and cupped my balls, and two or three hefty strokes later I roared. Shot after shot left my body, leaping great lengths, draining me each time to the core. I wanted to collapse to my knees. I swear my nerves were just about to have a melt down.

I looked down again and she was smiling. You just don't get any better than that. I don't know how long we just smiled at each other, but it seemed like time stood still. It was as if we were in another time and place, where raw human emotion and basic instincts overrule social dos and don'ts – and what a surreal experience it was.

Warmth, freedom, adventure, and human desire... I love summer.

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Thanks for the edit and the help Dark.