Date: Wed, 15 Aug 2018 19:03:47 +0300 From: grayhair99(dot)tumblr(dot)com Subject: IN THE DUNES (Gay Encounters) Recently there was very bad news about the poisonous 'red tide' on beaches of Florida's Gulf of Mexico. People are staying way from the brilliant white sand and azure waves of the gulf. However, this is the place where people like to vacation and meet new friends. I remember one encounter on that beach that happened a few years ago and would like to share it. This story depicts sexual situations between males and if reading such is illegal, where you reside or you are not at least 18 years of age, please read at your own risk. This work is the property of the author and should not be re-posted or reproduced without his permission. ++++++++++++++++++++++ IN THE DUNES By Grauhair99 After parking my car near the central part of the beach and after collecting all the necessary gear I set off for a distant area of the shore that was less crowded - an area with snow-white sand and low, slightly overgrown dunes. I chose a place in a shallow hollow between sandy dunes and decided to plunge into the enticing waves. Just as I came out of the water a man greeted me with the traditional American "Hi!" right at the beginning of the sandy area. I went beyond answering with the same greeting and cordially wished him a pleasant stay on this wonderful day. Although I was 25-30 years older than him, I even sympathetically asked him whether he needed help carrying his gear to wherever he planned to stop. He refused with a broad smile, thanked me for the offer and set up toward the nearby dunes about a dozen meters from the edge of the water. About an hour later, I decided to stretch my legs, leave my hiding place and stroll along the beach. Maneuvering between the dunes I very quickly came to one of the hollows separated from the edge of the gulf by a mound of sand no more than a meter high. Scanning the nearby area and the horizon, I caught sight of that same man quite close to me. He was talking with someone standing by him. This encounter was quite short and the man waved goodbye to the other person and was by himself again. I walked toward his lair, greeted him as I was walking by and asked him how things were going for him. He answered with some rather insignificant phrases, remembered that I had previously offered to help him and said that right now he would indeed like to ask me a favor. When I asked what he wanted me to do, he asked me to apply sunscreen to his back. I certainly agreed and suggested him to lie down on the light recliner he had brought with him. As he was doing what I requested I surmised by his swarthy body and dark curly hair that my new friend was Latino. His back was rather slender but the large size of his prominent rounded buttocks under his tight speedo indicated that he worked out in the gym regularly. His muscular thighs and calves confirmed my observation. My mouth began to water just in anticipation that my hands now had the opportunity to touch this stately, handsome body and my groin began to ache. I put some sunscreen lotion in my hand and began to spread it on the young man's back. During this process I learned a few details about my patient. His name was Jorge; he had come from Argentina about 15 years ago, liked to play soccer and earned his living working in a large local transportation company. I asked Jorge if he only wanted me to apply sunscreen or if he would like to have a more intense muscle massage. He enthusiastically opted for the massage and I began not just applying the lotion but also massaging his back. Jorge agreed that his speedo should be protected from the lotion so, reaching his hands behind himself, he pulled his speedo half way down his buttocks. This enabled me to expand the massage to that area as well. In the process of circular movements along his supple buns, I pushed his speedo even lower thereby exposing the area where his legs met. By varying the type of motion and degree of pressure on his muscles, my hands intensively yet gently worked on his back from his neck down to the perineum between his thighs. Jorge suggested that perhaps it would be more convenient for me if he moved from the recliner to the beach towel on the sand. As soon as he moved there and was thus able to spread his legs farther apart I placed him on the upper part of my thighs and continued to massage his back, At the same time I paid more attention and time massaging his buttocks. From time to time I spread apart his supple buns, moved my well-lubricated hands along the crack between them and with circular motions caressed his pulsating pink mushroom. Judging from his moans, words and the compliance of his body, it was obvious that all my hand movements were giving him real pleasure. I should mention that people were walking along the edge of the gulf about 30-40 meters away from the low dune. The small mound of sand hid us from the view of people passing by. They could see my head and shoulders but the rest of our lair was beyond the vision of passers- by. From time to time I would stand up in order to make sure that the area near the edge of the ocean beyond our low dune presented no trouble for us. However, the feeling that periodically there were people in our immediate vicinity added more adrenalin and courage to both of us. We both wanted to continue and my hands spread out to contact other parts of his body. By turning over on his back, Jorge gave me the opportunity to work on the front part of his body. Here my movements were not so aggressive. My hands gently stroked his neck, chest, and stomach and gradually dropped lower to his crotch. I pulled the top part of his speedo away from his erect cock that was pointing to his navel and stroked it with the palm of my hand well lubricated with lotion. His back arched so that his cock was pointing vertically upwards and intensively sought contact with my hand. I decided to calm its passion a bit and moved down, first to his hips and then his calves. After massaging these parts on both legs I returned at middle part of his body to caress his stomach, bush, hanging balls and his cock itself. The movement of my slippery palm along his shaft evoked his moaning of approval and rapid breathing. Just at the moment when my mouth approached his throbbing cock, Jorge suddenly stood up, briefly scanned the surrounding area and then grasped my head with both hands, placing my mouth on his cock. Then I got a complete sensation of the Latin- American temperament - his non-stop machine filled my mouth with its supple flesh and madcap speed. My attempts to free my head from his hands were unsuccessful, and his organ even increased in size and made back-and-forth movements even faster. I grabbed his ass with both hands, forcefully squeezed his buns, and with one finger, penetrated into the coveted hole in the middle of his crotch. This even further excited the already madly aroused Argentinean stud, and my now two fingers deeply inserted into his warm body got in sync with the rhythm of his ass and his phallus in my mouth. He shouted some words I didn't understand in Spanish, thrust his organ up the its base into my mouth and throat and began to spurt warm streams of sperm. His whole body became tense and shuddered in rhythm with the erupting streams. When his orgasm ended, he finally released my head and removed his softening cock. His viscous life-producing liquid was oozing from the corners of my lips. Jorge lay down next to me on the beach towel, again grasped my head in his palms, pulled it toward himself and kissed my nose and cheeks. After such a tumultuous climax we lay side by side and relaxed. Our heads rested on each other's hands and touched lightly. In this peaceful setting he wanted to hear more from me about my homeland and its people. This was especially interesting to him because up to now he had never had an opportunity to meet people from my mysterious and cold country. I in turn shared with my new lover some of my knowledge about Argentina. He was very surprised when I reminded him that he had the same name as the famous (Nobel Prize winner) Argentinian poet, Jorge Borges. We chatted about their black colonels, the wife of one of their presidents - the heroine of the musical "Evita" - about the tango, the life and dances of the gauchos, about the beauty of Patagonia and other attractions of his homeland. After some time Jorge's hand lowered to my crotch, found there a slightly drooping cock and began to masturbate it. When my organ reached the shape necessary to receive pleasure, Jorge lowered himself, spread my legs apart, laydown between them and began to play with my cock. He devoured my erect column with his eyes, then making a large "O" with his lips he went down on it with his mouth. He energetically moved his head up and down and fondled my balls with the fingers of one of his hands. He slid his other hand under my ass and repeated my same actions with his fingers in my sphincter. It felt like the height of bliss and I sensed the unavoidable approach to the "point of no return". And it happened - my balls released the seed that had accumulated there for several days through the opening in my tense cock and began to shoot its contents into Jorge's mouth. He was not ready for such a climax and although he had moved away slightly, several thick spurts fell on his nose and cheeks. He wiped them away with the back of his hand, and reached for a bottle of water to rinse out, as he said, sperm he was not accustomed to. After that he jumped up on his feet, extended his hand to me, helped me get up from the beach towel and, with me right behind him, ran to dive into the gulf. +++++++++++++++++++++++ I am very thankful to santaferomantic(dot)tumblr(dot)com for the artistic translation and encourage to publish the story. Wanna chat about the story or common interests? 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