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Beach Man
By
Jane_Awsum

Beach Man

Eighteen months after her married lover moved away with his wife, a woman meets a man on the beach.
I met him yesterday morning on the beach. He was tan and attractive and struck up a conversation with me as easily as an old friend. We talked about everything but ourselves. I began to feel sexy in my bikini. It's been so long. I had a strong desire to submit. In the afternoon I went with him to his place and we had sex.

His cock was about average length, somewhat thicker but so very hard. I liked the feel of it in my mouth and wanted to swallow his cum. He had other ideas and was stronger. He said he wanted to taste me. I demurred. He wrestled me down and forced my legs apart. My playful fight was valiant until his tongue hit its mark. It felt so good at first and then got even better. This man was a musician and my pussy was his instrument. I pushed all ten fingers into his hair to keep him there. Soon he had me singing an aria.

When my song ended he began pushing his tongue into me. I closed my eyes and relaxed with the vision of his stiff cock hanging like a spring between his legs. I wanted it in me as much as I ever wanted a cock. Instead he drove his relentless tongue deeply in a slow rhythm every other second or so and refocused my thoughts. It felt so unusually firm and satisfying for a tongue even before he began pressing his face against me with each thrust. He maintained the rhythm with his tongue pushing his face harder and harder against me and making lewd squishy sounds into my wetness as both our excitement grew. His face surged into me like a pulse, his nose and tongue pushed against and into me.

It swept me away. My heart raced, my breathing drew deep and every muscle of my body strained into orgasm. No one would mistake the sounds I made for opera.

 I still had my bikini top on but I had pushed it up to feel my own tits and squeeze my own nipples at the onset of my strong orgasm. I grew aware of this only when he repositioned it to again cover my tits as he brought himself up to kiss me. I never had a man pull any of my clothing back into place before.

His face was slick with my juices and smooth against my cheeks. I realized that he must have shaved when he showered after first arriving from the beach. His kisses felt good and as I licked my remnants from his face our mouths and tongues grew hungry for each other's. I hadn't kissed anyone with as much passion since I was a virgin teenager. Our kissing again made my vagina grow hungry for his cock. My knees spread wider. He entered me with perfect aim feeling bigger and more filling than I expected.

He fucked me with the same rhythm he had used with his tongue until I came around his cock singing another aria. When I opened my eyes he smiled at me getting me to smile back. His cock still in rhythm he resumed kissing me. I whispered in his ear to hurt me, to fuck me hard and to hurt me with his cock.

That brought out the savage in him. He pushed my knees up against my shoulders and thrust into me with hard stabbing blows. I watched his straining face. I grimaced each time his body slammed into mine, but there really wasn't much pain. It was almost pure pleasure, such pleasure that another orgasm overtook me. Every vital sign of my body elevated and my vaginal muscles clamped onto his cock. The last thought I had before loosing control was wishing I could suppress the noises I make.

Just as I passed my peak, with the heels of my feet still urging his thrusts and my noise still out of control, I detected a change in his rhythm followed by the flooding of my cunt with his semen. So much slipperiness. He kept pumping into me even as it leaked out and ran down my bottom onto the bed. He kept pumping until, finally flaccid and out, he lowered his body onto mine, kissing my head and face and lips and neck.

"Are you married?" I asked.

"Widowed." He said. I looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. His long pause told me he wasn't at first going to, but I remained quiet and my silence changed his mind. "Four years ago, breast cancer."

"We have a lot to talk about," I said.

"How much time do you have?"

"Too be honest, all kinds of time," I said.

"Me too."

"Good, because right now I want to suck your cock."

I was happy it didn't take long for him to grow hard again. I enjoyed licking the length of his cock, and occasionally his balls, but I mostly liked having the firm spongy head in my mouth and working my tongue against it. I liked watching his face, especially his eyes as they communicated the effect I was having on him.

Eventually my pussy got too excited to continue without having him inside me again so I straddled him and slid myself down over his shaft to ride him cowgirl style.

"You've done this before," he said with a wry smile.

"Not since my married lover and his wife moved out west."

"When?"

"Year and a half ago."

We both fell silent as I cantered up and down on his cock. Now it was his turn to watch me. His hands were comfortably behind his head. Every time I opened my eyes he was smiling at me. His cock felt good. I liked the look of it disappearing into me. I had three orgasms. I used my fingers to help with the last one and it was big. Damn noisy slut.

"Take off your bikini top," he said.

I did and my tits tumbled into the open.

"Oh Baby Jane, you are so beautiful," he said and he brought his hands from behind his head and pushed them against my soft swaying tits, squeezing gently.

I could tell he was going to cum. When he moved his hands to my hips I suddenly lifted off of him and immediately took his cock in my mouth kneeling between his legs. He began squirting into my mouth almost immediately and I stayed on him until I swallowed every drop. He tasted good, mildly tangy and a tiny bit salty. I actually licked my lips.

He wanted me to stay through dinner and spend the night. I must say it was a hard offer to resist. I wanted more of this man and just the fact that he thought he could keep going was enticing, but I managed to collect myself enough to end our tryst.

"No", I said, "I want a date."

"A date?" He said laughing.

"Yes."

"What kind of date, like dinner and dancing?"

"That would be nice," I said.

"I can't dance," he said

"Of course you can."

"How about Saturday? No, Friday, I don't think I can wait till Saturday."

"Friday's good"

That was yesterday, Wednesday. I can barely wait until tomorrow. If he can dance, I'll stay the whole weekend.
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