Beach walk
It was a beautiful weekday morning and my husband and I decided to go for a walk along the beach. It was a warm day with mild humidity and overcast skies.
The farther we walked down the beach away from the pier the fewer people we saw until we were alone on the beach. I was feeling naughty and playful so suggested a dare: we should strip and walk naked for five minutes. It really wasn’t much of a dare because we could see anyone that approached long before they could discern that we were naked. But the thought of stripping on a public beach turned me on.
My husband added the condition that he hold my clothes, and me his. I squealed with delight and giggled as I quickly stripped down, tossing each article of clothing to him as I mimicked a strip tease. Within minutes, I was naked on the beach, my husband clutching my t-shirt, shorts and undergarments. Now it was his turn.
He took off sprinting down the beach. I stood there in disbelief giving him precious time to widen the gap between us. I gave hot pursuit but he was too fast so I pulled up and began walking. My body glistened covered by in sheen of perspiration. He looked back, saw me walking, turned around and began walking toward me, laughing as he approached.
At first, I was irritated that he didn’t strip too but I felt so alive in my nudity I began skipping and playing tag with the surf. He stopped walking and just stood there, a hundred yards down the beach, watching me. Something about his body language was foreboding.
The first bicycle whizzed by me, then another, and another, five in all. At low tide, the sand is as firm as pavement and bicyclists are common, just not during the week!!!
Instinctively, I tried to cover my breasts and my pussy as bicyclists sk**ded to a stop all around me. The futility of protecting my modesty became ridiculous. So I dropped my arms in capitulation, exposing myself to the gang that surrounded me. I looked down the beach at my husband, imploring him to come to my aid. He shrugged and started walking toward the dunes. WTF!!!
They inquired if I needed assistance. The question was laden with sexual innuendo. They introduced themselves, all fraternity boys from the local college, out for a joy ride. My heart sank. It was unlikely that they would just inquire about my well-being and be on their way.
Their leader was already off his bike and approaching me. I didn’t feel threatened; I felt empowered. My body betrayed my arousal; the lust in their eyes advertised theirs. I couldn’t let this strapping young man reach me or I would likely do their bidding. His hand touched my shoulder, and a bolt of pleasure shot through my body and I was overcome with desire.
I panicked and raced toward the surf, diving head first into the surf. When I surfaced, they all waved and pointed to their cell phones. Evidently I was to be notorious regardless.
A missed opportunity?
The farther we walked down the beach away from the pier the fewer people we saw until we were alone on the beach. I was feeling naughty and playful so suggested a dare: we should strip and walk naked for five minutes. It really wasn’t much of a dare because we could see anyone that approached long before they could discern that we were naked. But the thought of stripping on a public beach turned me on.
My husband added the condition that he hold my clothes, and me his. I squealed with delight and giggled as I quickly stripped down, tossing each article of clothing to him as I mimicked a strip tease. Within minutes, I was naked on the beach, my husband clutching my t-shirt, shorts and undergarments. Now it was his turn.
He took off sprinting down the beach. I stood there in disbelief giving him precious time to widen the gap between us. I gave hot pursuit but he was too fast so I pulled up and began walking. My body glistened covered by in sheen of perspiration. He looked back, saw me walking, turned around and began walking toward me, laughing as he approached.
At first, I was irritated that he didn’t strip too but I felt so alive in my nudity I began skipping and playing tag with the surf. He stopped walking and just stood there, a hundred yards down the beach, watching me. Something about his body language was foreboding.
The first bicycle whizzed by me, then another, and another, five in all. At low tide, the sand is as firm as pavement and bicyclists are common, just not during the week!!!
Instinctively, I tried to cover my breasts and my pussy as bicyclists sk**ded to a stop all around me. The futility of protecting my modesty became ridiculous. So I dropped my arms in capitulation, exposing myself to the gang that surrounded me. I looked down the beach at my husband, imploring him to come to my aid. He shrugged and started walking toward the dunes. WTF!!!
They inquired if I needed assistance. The question was laden with sexual innuendo. They introduced themselves, all fraternity boys from the local college, out for a joy ride. My heart sank. It was unlikely that they would just inquire about my well-being and be on their way.
Their leader was already off his bike and approaching me. I didn’t feel threatened; I felt empowered. My body betrayed my arousal; the lust in their eyes advertised theirs. I couldn’t let this strapping young man reach me or I would likely do their bidding. His hand touched my shoulder, and a bolt of pleasure shot through my body and I was overcome with desire.
I panicked and raced toward the surf, diving head first into the surf. When I surfaced, they all waved and pointed to their cell phones. Evidently I was to be notorious regardless.
A missed opportunity?
7 years ago
