Date: Mon, 3 Dec 2018 08:26:19 +0100 (CET)
From: Tommy <thomasandjames@tutanota.com>
Subject: Blonde Boy on Black's Beach

Blonde Boy on Black's Beach

I first noticed him bodysurfing as I walked up the beach toward him. From a
distance I thought he was older, a young man in his late teens perhaps. He
ran up out of the water to a pile of clothes and shoes in the sand near
where I was walking. Now, seeing him naked out of the water, I could tell
he's much younger than I had thought, probably 13 or 14. I stopped about
ten feet from him to watch, making no pretenses nor trying to hide my lust
for him. He deliberately faced me to bend over and pick up his boardshorts
(no underwear, a true California beach boy), denying me a look at his
hole. He knew I was eyeing him and seemed to want to keep his most intimate
spot private, but he was not otherwise bashful. I watched him balance on
one foot while he struggled to get his boardshorts on, his pale ass and boy
parts contrasting nicely with his golden-tanned body. I surmised he was not
a regular at this nude beach. My cock rose a little more with each beat of
my heart.

This was my third visit to Black's, a nude beach nestled below the cliffs
of La Jolla in northern San Diego County. It's notoriously difficult to
reach, requiring one to park quite a distance from the trailhead then hike
a mile down an extremely steep private road owned by the UCSD regents. I'd
read the southern part of Black's is pretty cruisy, and I did happen upon a
middle-aged man and a 20-something enjoying oral last time I was here. They
let me join in for a hot three-way and I left satisfied, although I prefer
adolescent boys.

Today, it was late afternoon on a warm July weekday. Most beachgoers had
already made the steep ascent to leave for the day. I favored visiting any
beach mid-week, especially Tuesdays, for lack of crowds. Today, as
expected, few had ventured down to enjoy the sand & surf and fewer
remained. Slung over my shoulder I carried a small backpack containing a
water bottle, tennies, boardshorts and a large towel. In the pockets I
carried some napkins, lube, and two condoms just in case. I'm versatile
although I much prefer oral, either receiving or performing. I liked
walking the beach naked for all to see, but I loved standing erect for this
teen idol to see.

The boy was blonde with shaggy, sun-bleached hair. About 5' 4" I'd guess,
with a swimmer's build. As he leaned forward trying to get a foot through
his shorts, I noticed a couple folds of a thin layer of belly fat, perfect
for a fit boy his age. His intact cock looked to be a little over two
inches and plump, with his foreskin hanging barely beyond the tip. Not bad
considering he had just come out of the cool ocean water. He had a pubic
moustache, a thin band of brown hair above his cock that extended slightly
down the sides, and his hairless ballsack, about the size of a golf ball,
snuggled up tightly for warmth. His immature-looking bits supported my
assessment of his young age. He was stunningly gorgeous, and he appeared to
be alone. The only other people on this part of the beach were off in the
distance or heading back toward the trail leading up to civilization.

He looked up at me but quickly looked away, first pausing to get a good
look at my erection. He got his feet through his shorts and shook any sand
out of them as he looked around, scanning the beach. He didn't appear
frightened, probably because he knew he could outrun this middle-aged man
if he had to. I was in decent shape, still active with my own teenaged sons
and their Scout activities. I ate right and I worked out – not as much
as I once did, but enough to keep my belly to just a slight paunch. I was
early 40s, 5' 10" and 185 pounds. I had blue eyes, and although my light
brown hair was slightly thinning, I still had my hairline and no gray
whatsoever. People usually guessed my age in the 30s, and considering by my
mother's youthful looks and genetics, I believed them. I was always
clean-shaven, I waxed away what little chest hair I had, and I manscaped to
keep my groin attractively youthful.

"Hi," I offered. "Nice day, huh?"

He just looked at me, not answering as he pulled up his shorts and snapped
the top. The Velcro fly sealed itself. I was now fully erect and I thought
he was boning up, too. He was not as sneaky as he thought as I watched his
eyes repeatedly dart quickly to my standing cock and back.

"I watched you in the water," I said. "You're pretty good. You make the
most of those small waves."

"Surf sucks today," he complained. His boyish voice and face were betrayed
by his pubic hair and sizeable cock; had I not seen him naked, I would have
thought him to be a tall boy of eleven or twelve.

I decided to be direct. "That's not all that sucks," I said, overtly
staring at the small lump in his shorts. I would either scare him off or I
would suck him off, but I did not have time for a game of cat and mouse. He
blushed; he knew what I meant, what I wanted.

I too was intact, and as I became hard my foreskin retracted, as it
sometimes will do spontaneously. I reached down and tugged my foreskin back
down over my exposed head. He keenly watched me, the front of his shorts
beginning to tent.

"You ever check out those cliffs up close?" I asked, pointing to the cliffs
just twenty yards away. "They're pretty cool. Cactus grows right out of
them, and birds nest in them."

He picked up his towel and snapped the sand off it. He grabbed his t-shirt
& skate shoes and started toward the exit road without a word. I walked
with him.

"I'm Tom," I said, not wanting this one to get away. "Look, I saw you
checking out my cock. That's fair, `cause I was definitely looking at
yours. Let's just walk over there for five minutes then I'll leave you
alone. I really wanna suck your cock. Nobody has to know."

He looked at me then looked at my hardness. He stopped and looked at the
cliffs, thinking about it. His tented shorts could not hide his
excitement. I stepped forward and reached out to caress his boyhood through
the thin nylon. He was very hard and his cock had grown considerably. He
grabbed my hand. I thought he would pull it away, but instead he pulled it
into his stiffness and thrust his hips forward, gyrating against my
hand. He looked around then trotted to the cliffs. I was right behind.

>From our position we could not be seen by anyone unless they were almost
directly between us and the water, so we were in the open yet we had our
privacy. I felt him again, squeezing his clothed, stiff boyhood between my
fingers while rubbing up and down, enjoying the long smoothness of it
behind the shorts. I leaned over to suck a nipple, eliciting a soft moan
from this blonde boygod. He grabbed my hand and pulled it into him once
more. He liked to be in control, I noticed.

I moved to his other nip, teasing him with my tongue and a very soft nibble
while I played with the other, squeezing it firmly between my fingers. He
thrust his cock into my other hand. He was ready.

I unsnapped his shorts and tore open the Velcro fly. His shorts hung up on
his raging hardness. He pulled back and tugged his shorts forward to free
them and let them fall into the sand. He had a good five inches of gorgeous
boymeat standing proudly at about a 45-degree angle. His ample foreskin
still covered most of his glans, but it was obvious it would easily retract
to expose his cherry-sized delicacy that capped his respectably thick
shaft. His balls looked larger now, having warmed since emerging from the
chilly Pacific. They were so inviting I didn't know where to start. I
reached down and cupped his wrinkly boy sack, teasing it with gentle
squeezes and caresses, and tugging on it. After a moment, I pulled my hand
back toward me, dragging my fingers lightly from his balls to his throbbing
shaft and up it, caressing all the way to the tip. I encircled his warm
shaft and pulled down, pulling his foreskin back to reveal a deliciously
smooth, purple glans the sort from which wet dreams are made. He watched me
and my painfully hard cock, alternating his gaze between the two.

"So smooth," I whispered rhetorically.

I stood closer to him to hold our cocks together, mine on top of his,
wrapped my hand around both and stroked then as one. He moaned again,
obviously enjoying the intimacy. He raised a hand to my chest and left it
there for no apparent reason. I pulled my cock back a little then skinned
his cock and mine. I put our heads together tip to tip and worked my
foreskin over his cock, enveloping it. He gasped as I gently stroked my
foreskin over his head. I let go and pulled back. He watched amazed as a
string of pre-cum stretched between our separating cocks like a spider web.

"Suck it," he pleaded - no, he ordered.

I was happy to oblige. I dropped to my knees and leaned in for a good look
and a whiff of this most exquisite example of boyhood perfection. It
smelled clean, like the ocean. I closed my eyes and grasped it. I drew all
over my face with the head of this beautiful morsel, across my cheeks, my
eyes, forehead and lips, savoring the feel of his magnificence smearing
pre-cum all over my face. When I could resist no longer, I stroked it a few
times, stopping with his skin pulled tightly back, his shiny head begging
for attention. I engulfed him, my mouth wide open as I tried to not touch
his stiffness until I had it buried, my nose on his pubes. I closed tightly
on him and sucked hard, drawing all the way back in one slow, steady motion
until only his head remained in me, my tongue tickling his frenulum.

"Ohmygosh," he cried in delight.

I maintained a lighter suction and moved up and down slowly, working his
sensitive head with my tongue as I went. I tasted his pre-cum, a
salty-sweet delight flowing abundantly into my hungry mouth. I knew he
wouldn't last long. No boy can withstand such intense pleasure more than a
minute or two. I released his cock to get a taste of his balls before they
expelled their nectar into me.

I rested my hands on his smooth thighs. I gave his balls a tongue bath
suitable for this young prince or any other. I licked the intimate saddle
between his sack and thigh. I mouthed his entire sack, swashing his
still-maturing balls around in my mouth, prodding with my tongue trying to
feel his little eggs for size. I released them and went to the other side,
again starting at the saddle. Like a good boy, he spread his legs to offer
me better access. This boy was putty to my expert manipulations.

I stood up to again see him fully, knowing he would be gone as soon as this
was over. I caressed his flat belly and played with his nipples. I leaned
in to kiss him but he turned away, as I expected. Boys his age don't go for
kissing. I sucked his nips again, one after the other, while lightly
caressing his rampant erection. He was breathing heavily. He grabbed his
cock, pushing my hand aside, and started pumping. I grabbed his hand to
stop him. He let me pull it off and place it on my cock.

"Stroke this," I suggested.

He did. He knew what to do; clearly, mine was not the first cock other than
his that he's stroked. It's been my experience that I can get a boy to play
along if I get him sufficiently horny and frustrated, and sometimes I can
even get them to suck.

I stroked him back, and for a moment we got into a pleasant matching
rhythm. Alas, I was not close but his cock swelled and became harder in my
hand, telling me he was very close. He obviously really enjoyed stroking my
cock. I had misread him as just another curious boy wanting to get off. I
dropped back to my knees and hesitated just briefly enough to take a mental
picture of the perfect display of boyhood before me. I started slowly now,
wanting to delay the inevitable. I licked his piss hole and frenulum. I
pulled back his foreskin and took his glistening glans into my eager mouth,
closing my lips around his velvety-smooth shaft while I continued my
assault on his helpless glans; he had met his match. Without warning, he
took charge and pushed hard into me. I grabbed his bare ass-cheeks and
pulled, I too wanting him deep within me. I delighted in feeling his glutes
tighten and relax as he pumped, fucking my face. I sucked, anticipating my
imminent prize.

With both hands, he pulled my head toward him and thrust one last time. He
was taller now, on his tiptoes as his glans swelled within me like a
balloon ready to pop. He erupted with a torrent of sticky seed, gush after
gush of this delectable gift. I swallowed his first two, not wanting to
waste a drop of this precious ambrosia. Three, four, and weakly five lovely
squirts shot into my waiting mouth. I let go his quivering cheeks and felt
his balls. They had parted, one on each side of the very base of his cock
like gargoyles guarding a gothic tower. I caressed them very lightly,
relishing their feel while appreciating that they had just surrendered
their precious load to me. I wanted this moment to last, but I knew this
boy would soon be unable to endure even the lightest touch of his
overstimulated penis now softening in my mouth. As if on cue, he pulled
back the moment I thought it.

"Thanks," he said.

This hot boy has manners too, I mused.

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