Loading...The whole thing was Margaret’s idea, not mine. You could say I was more a reluctant victim rather than an eager participant. It was late spring and the weather was warming up nicely. Still too cold to go to the beach in my opinion, but it wouldn’t be long.
It was a Saturday afternoon, reasonably warm, and Margaret came around with her bright idea. She wanted to go to the beach and get an early start on a suntan.
“So go,” I told her. “Don’t let me hold you back. You’ll probably freeze to death but you’ll be a nicely tanned corpse.”
“It’s not that cold,” Margaret pointed out. “If you’re out of the wind it’s actually quite warm.”
“Maybe, but if we’re at the beach we won’t be out of the wind, will we,” I said.
“Actually, we will,” I was told. “I know a place where we can be out of the wind and in a secluded area. We’ll be able to get a start on our tans and we’ll be able to sunbath topless.”
“With every man for miles around zeroing in to gawk at us. No thanks.”
“I said a secluded area. We’ll be the only ones around. No gawkers. I just don’t want to go by myself. It’s just good sense to take someone with me. And you’re that someone.”
“Why me? Take Brian with you. He’ll be perfectly happy to escort you.”
“And he’ll also want to fuck me while we’re there. How much tanning can I get done with him lying on top of me half the afternoon?”
“From past comments I’d have thought he’d only be in the way for a couple of minutes,” I said, tongue in cheek.
Margaret giggled, called me a rude name, and kept on talking.
Eventually, against my better sense, I was persuaded to go to the beach to get an early start on my tan. I had to admit that the chance to get an early start and to be able to go topless for a while, so that I had no tan lines, was appealing.
We headed off and Margaret did seem to have found the perfect spot. We were up away from the main beach and a copse of trees acted as a nice windbreak. Even though there were more people down on the actual beach than I had expected we were far enough away to have a fair degree of privacy.
We spread out our towels and settled down. Our tops were off, but in easy reach and, while we kept the bikini bottoms on, they may have been sort of rolled down a little to maximise exposure. To the sun. Only to the sun, I assure you. We also had a reasonable view so we’d be able to spot anyone heading in our direction and have plenty of time to cover up.
For the next couple of hours everything was fine. We didn’t bother talking, just lay there, soaking up the sun and listening to music. I love smart phones. They are so convenient for times like this. No need for a radio or anything. Just plug in the earphones and you’re set.
It was that stupid protective copse of trees that turned out to be the problem. We had an excellent view all around bar through the trees. We were taken completely by surprise when this guy stepped out from among the trees. We’d had no idea that there was anyone close by.
When I say we were taken by surprise, I should say that I got a surprise. Margaret got a hell of a shock. One moment she was lying there enjoying the sun and the next moment this guy is bending over her.
That’s right. He wasn’t just standing, looking. He was in action. He stepped out of the copse, bent over Margaret, took hold of her bikini bottom and just pulled them straight down. Perhaps I should say up, rather than down, because he hoisted her legs high into the air at the same time. In what appeared to be one second flat Margaret was naked with her legs high and wide, leaving her a sitting duck for this guy.
He must have decided on his course of action before he even stepped out from among the trees as he was already naked and his cock was standing up, ready for action. Before Margaret and I could do more than let out a couple of startled squeals he was pressing down onto Margaret. He’d hooked her legs over his shoulders to keep them out the road and he was already pushing his cock firmly against her slit while I was still scrambling to sit up.
I was absolutely horrified. Poor Margaret. I could actually see this guy’s cock pushing into her, and she was squealing and telling him to stop.
Now I just know you’re asking yourself why didn’t I do something to help her? I was going to, honestly. I was starting to scramble to my feet to come to her assistance when another man came out of the trees.
“Help her,” I gasped, thankful that assistance had arrived in such a timely way.
Then I got a better look at the second man. He was big and muscled, a lot bigger than the first man. In all ways. I could tell, because like the first man he was also naked and ready for action. The way he was smiling at me I knew just what action he intended.
“She doesn’t need any help,” he said quietly. “Bob will take care of her quite adequately.”
By this time he was so close to me that I’d flinched back and wound up sitting back on my bottom instead of standing.
“Take them off,” he said, nodding towards my bikini bottom.
I shook my head, and I was lucky to be able to do that much. I was feeling petrified. That cock of his was just swaying back and forth in front of me. I flicked a glance over at Margaret. She was still squealing and wriggling but her new friend, Bob, had her pinned very nicely. From his point of view, anyway. Margaret didn’t seem quite so happy.
“Let me put it this way,” said my chosen companion. (His choice, not mine.) “You can cooperate and slide them off and we can position you for a bit of friendly fun. Alternatively, I can just pull them off and take you in the same way as your friend is being taken. Your choice.”
I took another look at Margaret. Bob was now bouncing up and down, his cock sliding in and out of her. She was bent almost double and looked most uncomfortable. She was also gasping and giving little squeals every time Bob pushed into her. There was something odd about those squeals, I thought. They didn’t sound nearly as distressed as when Bob had started paying her attention.
The big question was, did I want to be bent double and bonked in that manner? The answer was a resounding no. Just too humiliating to be taken like that. Reluctantly, I lowered my bikini pants, and then I was naked. His cock seemed to know it, too. I’ll swear that it twitched with approval.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked, and I damn near laughed. At my age? He had to be kidding.
“Does it make any difference?” I asked.
“Not really. I just consider it polite to ask.”
“You’re going to rape me and you’re worried about being polite,” I asked, incredulity running riot.
“Just because you’re going to be reluctantly entertained doesn’t mean I need to be rude about it,” came the rejoinder. “Now roll over onto your hands and knees, bottom high.”
I gave him a filthy look, considered screaming, and decided it would be a waste of time. We were just too far from the main beach for anyone to hear. I flicked another look at Margaret. Bob was still pounding away in a most enthusiastic manner, and I’ll swear that she was lifting her hips to help him along. Tart. This was all her fault.
I rolled over into what I assumed was the required position, head down bum up. From the insulting pat on the bottom I guess that I got it right. I was waiting nervously, expecting him to just drive straight into me, the way Bob had with Margaret. Not so.
His hand closed over my mound and he started massaging me. He rubbed his hand slowly back and forth, apparently determined to make sure that I was aroused before taking me. And it was working, damn him. I knew what was going to happen – his cock was going to come ramming up me, like it or not. So my body had decided to start preparing. I was feeling hot, and it wasn’t the sun doing the warming this time.
I felt his cock come sliding along my lips, pressing against my slit, and I was trembling slightly, expecting him to take me. But he didn’t. He just rubbed his erection back and forth along my slit while his hands reached around me and started playing with my breasts.
My nipples were being lightly pinched and rolled around under his thumbs and his hands stroked and squeezed my breasts, and all the time his cock rubbed back and forth against my pussy.
I was hot and wet and waiting, breathing hard and having to bite my tongue to stop myself from telling him to just do it, damn you, do it. I squirmed slightly under him. With a bit of luck he might masturbate himself to the point of no return before he even got around to taking me.
His hand dropped back down to my pussy and this time his fingers were slipping between my lips and stroking me internally. He seemed to be touching me everywhere as he slowly explored my internal regions. I could help squealing in protest when he brushed my clitoris, but all this got me was another excruciating touch at the same place.
I was writhing under that evil man’s wicked touch, and I have no idea if I was trying to pull away from him or trying to push closer. I was just writhing and squirming, all sorts of funny feelings starting to run through me. The way he was going I could very well climax before he took me and as far as I was concerned the thought was horrifying.
I’ll give him this much. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He’d build me up and then let me down, keeping my nerves on edge, but for some reason not actually taking me. I didn’t know why, I was just glad he didn’t.
During a couple of those down periods I was able to check up on Margaret. She couldn’t complain about Bob not making it last. He was still merrily banging her, having a fine time and she seemed to be reciprocating, her hips humping upwards to meet him as he drove into her. She was gasping and squealing still, but those were definitely the squeals of a cat in heat.
Then finally I found a cock pressing firmly against my slit, pushing past my lips and into me. He made up for his slow start by driving full length into me with just a single thrust, and I became immediately aware of just how big his cock was. I’d seen it, and sort of known, but when it came charging up me I damn well KNEW.
I squealed of course. How could I do anything else? My whole world suddenly consisted of cock, inside me, big, moving, god help me.
Moving was right. Now that he’d started he really went to town. He pounded my poor pussy and I, to my great disgust, pushed eagerly back against him to make sure he went in deep. It wasn’t my fault. He’d got me so worked up that I just didn’t have a choice.
On top of that, it turned out that I was too worked up. I’d no sooner been given half a dozen good hard strokes from that piston of his than I lost it. I got hit by a climax just like that and I bit down onto my arm to stop myself screaming and just let it rip. Not that I had a choice. It just swept me away.
I don’t know how long I was out of it. I doubt it was very long. My senses came rushing back and I became vaguely aware of the world around me and very much aware of the cock still inside me. It was just there, filling me, but not moving. Joe Blow, or whatever his name was, seemed to sense that I was back with the living.
“If you’ve finished mucking about,” he said casually, “we can get down to business.”
And he got down to business. He started pounding me good and hard. It wasn’t a case of half a dozen strokes and over. He just kept on going and going. He seemed to have the stamina of a bull. And, from the feel of it, the equipment. He didn’t start slowly and speed up. He just went hell for leather from that first stoke and my poor bottom was frantically bobbing up and down, trying to keep up with him.
I was vaguely aware that Margaret had been finished off. She was lying there with a slightly dazed look, but observing my performance with Joe with a great deal of interest. Bitch.
I don’t think Joe ever wanted to stop. He kept drilling into me, his arms wrapped around me, holding my breasts as he took me. And kept on taking me. I could hear myself gasping and moaning, but all I really knew of what was going on was that piston inside me, doing woeful damage to me.
I climaxed a second time. I was just too sensitive down there now. The slightest touch was sending thrills into me and that cock was by no means the slightest touch. This time Joe just ignored my climax. I could sense him working away on me even while I was squealing and trying to collapse.
I came out of that climax and sure enough, Joe was still at it, sliding in deep, and I could feel my bottom rising again to let him go even deeper. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.
A little bit of my attention managed to drift over to Margaret and she was looking impressed. Whether it was with my performance or Joe’s I couldn’t say, and there was no way I would ever ask. Joe’s performance very quickly brought my full attention back to him.
I was gasping and squealing softly. I knew I was going to climax a third time and that it was going to happen pretty soon. I was shocked at myself. I’d never experienced anything like this before. I don’t know if I ever wanted to again.
“Third time’s the charm,” I heard Joe gasp softly, and then he was speeding up. If asked, I wouldn’t have believed it possible, but he did. Then he was climaxing and I came for a third time, and I could feel hot liquid splashing deep inside me even as I climaxed.
This time when I got myself together I was alone with Margaret.
“They’re gone,” she told me. “As soon as that guy finished with you they just up and left.”
She looked at me thoughtfully.
“That guy really gave it to you, didn’t he,” she observed. “I’m glad he wasn’t here last week.”
Last week? What the hell did she mean about last week?
“What do you mean, last week?” I asked, suspicion rampart.
“Oh, I came here last week to start on my tan and that guy Bob jumped me. That’s why I wanted company. I figured he wouldn’t dare bother us if there were two of us. I didn’t expect him to have a friend.”
If I’d had the strength I’d have killed her.