Walker on the Shore

"What's the joke?" I asked.

"It was not meant to happen quite so soon," replied Simon.

"I just lost control, I just wanted to suck and did."

"And got a rather quick result. I was too close and, you know, just the feel of her mouth and her bobbing head."

I nodded. I knew. Pat's head had bobbed often enough.

"Yes," said Ellen, "a real mouthful." She reached and squeezed Simon's erection.

"I'm surprised, then, you could hold off from going the whole way."

"Yeah, wasn't easy but..."

"Didn't you even touch?"

"Yes," she giggled, "came several times with Simon just rubbing my clit with his knob. The feeling of lust I had, just so desperate to jump on him and stuff his cock into me. Feel his hardness."

"So near, yet so far," I ventured.

"So near and so hard," Ellen giggled again.

"Yeah," echoed Simon, "I was so worked up. The feeling of need was incredible. I think we were both trembling, literally shaking with desire sometimes, knowing I could put my fingers or my tongue in Ellen but not my cock. We had some pretty wild sessions. I think we were so right to hold off."

"Must have made the wedding night the sweeter!"

"You should have been there to photograph!"

"No!" Exclaimed Ellen.

Her fingers lightly brushed my cock making it twitch. I shut up.

She was doing the same to each. Fingertips lightly running down the raised ridges, not touching the heads but just the bodies of the penises. Up and down ever so lightly. Fingers alternately brushing then tapping. It felt good and I could not stop my cock twitching at the touch.

Two cocks that could not get any harder!

Again the light application of fingers, this time fingers and thumbs encircling and gently drawing the foreskins fully down leaving our knobs exposed, the bifurcation of the glans so very clear and the fraena taut.

Ellen's fingers and thumbs moved, widening as she slipped them over the two glans and then closed them so the ring of flesh lightly brushed - really lightly - our knobs as she brought her hands a little backwards, a gossamer touch to the un-lubricated knobs catching the coronas each time. I know mine is sensitive and I am sure Simon's was the same. It was sort of like our penises were just entering a vagina and then withdrawing but with none of the slippery wetness just dry contact between the skin of her hand and our glans. She counted to ten as she stroked and then her fingers and thumbs slid back all the way down the shafts.

Her hands left the penises and curled around our twin scrota, fondling our twin pouches and what they contained. She did not hurry herself, her fingers finding time to stroke just below the scrota where the perineum is sensitive. Back up, another testicle fondling and then her fingers trailed back up the shafts. This time she caught the mobile skin of the foreskins and began to slide the soft skin over the two heads. A very, very slow wank.

"See?" Said Simon, "Ellen knows how to play with a cock."

"Cocks," she said.

It seemed to me Ellen was really enjoying having two cocks to play with. If only there could be other opportunities... She was certainly smiling. And the way she said "cocks" was a delight

"I'm going to get our camera and pop it on its tripod. You don't mind?" She squeezed my penis and gave it an extra tug. It is difficult to refuse a woman holding one's penis,

She set it up on the sand, setting it to delay timing mode. A snap every fifteen seconds.

Shall I take some photos with yours too?

"OK, go on then."

Ellen set my camera up but the other way around from theirs. Again with the quarter minute time delay. Rather than facing her it was behind her. The photographs show her clearly enough, her naked back and bottom but not her face. You cannot really see Simon's or my face either. What you can see are our twin erections and Ellen's hands. And best of all given the speed of the shots was the one that caught the ejaculations. Not simply our cocks showing wet at the top or one dribbling but both held upright in Ellen's hands and shooting - not just one of them but both with cum actually in the air. A wonderful, so sexy, shot of a naked girl letting loose two cocks at once - both of them fountaining. The shot so crisp in its focus, the skin tones and blue sea and sky so right and all shot in megapixels of detail. Full size on my computer monitor you can almost feel the heat of the day and smell the sea. Looking at it would almost make you think you were there - but, of course, I was!

But I am getting ahead of myself. Fifteen minutes or so ahead of myself - sixty frames of photographs or 120 if you count both cameras!

Fifteen minutes of being wanked by a young bride on a deserted beach together with her husband, just lying there and being manipulated. Fifteen minutes of exquisite pleasure being brought to the edge not a few times, fifteen minutes of rock hardness, fifteen minutes of inventive penis work by hand.

Yes, alas, her mouth did not descend, not even to Simon's penis. Ellen said how much she wanted to. 'Two lovely fat pricks to suck.' I quote her verbatim. Her talk was very sexual. What she would like to do: but was not going to!

Sometimes she would just hold with her fingers and let the pads of her thumb do the stroking. Another time she tucked some of the small white pebbles under our foreskins, pulled up the skin and stroked the then bumpy surfaces with her thumbs.

Eventually, "Time to come, boys, don't you think?"

I must admit I had been thinking that! There comes a time for the manipulation to stop and the ejaculation to come! Steady but quick strokes to the two penises. Ellen's eyes going from one to the other, our knobs being exposed and then hidden in unison, her hands moving in time. I felt it coming, the unstoppable surge, I tried to hold it back but could not. Yet, before I came, I saw a flash of white from Simon's penis and he was coming just as I too fountained.

Fountained? It was like that. Spurts of semen up in the air and falling back across our stomachs just as the white pebbles had represented.. A wonderful feeling - a wonderful sight. All that stimulation seemed to have really produced a result - a copious result or, indeed, results.

Ellen's hands slowed but did not stop. Still gentle movement, still the foreskins were slid. A squeeze to Simon's and a little more semen oozed out: a squeeze to me with the same result. Soft careful movement as our penises began to soften becoming not the hard truncheons of the last almost an hour but floppy, putty like little things in her hands. Gently she pulled up the foreskins and set them down. Simon's in its own pool of semen. Cum was all over our stomachs, curls of semen and little pools of the stuff. I did not miss, either, there was cum on her fingers. My cum! I might not have had the opportunity to spurt over her bottom or breasts or tummy... or face... but it was still on her skin and when she wiped her fingers on her hips, on the side of her soft bottom I could see it there too. She turned the cameras off.

Ellen spoke, "I said the other day when you came in the sea, Tony, that I like seeing a cock spurting. Is that odd?" She was picking up white pebbles. "I think because Simon and I did so much mutual masturbation it's got into my mind as a so sexy thing. A bit Pavlov's dog in its association to me with my own orgasms. I know some of my friends are a bit 'urgh' about that - all that sticky mess - but me, I like seeing Simon's cock spurt so it's been really nice playing with yours and making it come. It has been, really."

And she began placing the pebbles as before but this time following the real paths of our ejaculations, placing little pebbles along the little rivulets and larger pebbles where a pulse had splashed down. Placing each carefully actually in the semen.

We talked, Simon and I lying there as Ellen placed the pebbles and then she too lay back with one hand to her breasts - the one that had played me - and the other touching her sex. "My turn," she said, "no, no you two just lie still. This girl's going to fly solo. I don't think it'll take long."

I have to say it was very nice just lying there watching Ellen bring herself off. No sexual desire left in me but still good to see her fingers working between her splayed thighs - I am sure the warmth of the sun shining down on her sex helped; good to see her fingers playing with her breasts and pulling at her nipples; good to hear the sounds she made particularly when she came with her thighs clamping around her own hand.

It was so funny when we eventually stood to find the semen had dried sticking the pebbles to Simon and myself. The two of us standing in the sunshine with our ejaculation patterns picked out in white pebbles across our stomachs and chests. Again a group photograph, again just a nudist group of two men with a girl between them but what strange designs across the men's stomachs!

Swimming, of course, washed everything away, pebbles dropping one by one into the water, and then it was really time for me to walk on and leave them.

I looked back down the beach. A deserted, secret beach but for the two figures sitting naked. Ellen waved. I waved and then Simon too stood and waved. I walked on.

Alas for them that day was the end of their honeymoon. Just the afternoon left on the beach for the two of them. Alas for me too. Had they been there a few more days holiday I would surely have found myself walking that way again; would have found some excuse to give to Pat why I was walking the same route a third time. I don't know what that might have been - perhaps to walk it the other way and see the walk from the opposite angle. But it was their last day. They would not be there on the next day or the one after or the one after that.

Actually I did walk that way again a week later and did stand on that beach naked once more but alone. The little waves came to and fro just as before, across the sand were the little white pebbles, but no Ellen, no Simon to stand there with. No young couple to watch engaged in sexual things, no nubile young girl to photograph, no compliant young lovers to direct, no delicate feminine hand to grasp two firm erections and play. I should perhaps have got Pat to come there with me. Should have insisted on her being naked, decorated her with pebbles and got her on her hands and knees in the sea and fucked her as I had wanted to fuck Ellen. That would have been great too! Instead I took my wife like that in our hotel room and imagined.

Imagined it was Ellen? Well, maybe!

A true story? Well, that is for you to decide. Did I exaggerate what happened? Did I embellish Ellen's enthusiasm? Was any of it real at all?

Had it been fantasy, had I made it all up, then, surely, I would have got to both fuck Ellen and had her suck the juice out of me. Wouldn't I?

Do you want to see the photographs?