Date: Wed, 6 Jul 2022 08:50:59 -0400 From: Ed Stiles Subject: Panty on the Beach Please consider contributing to Nifty so that gay erotica like this can continue to thrive and be published. https://donate.nifty.org/ By Edward Stiles His hand was on my pantied ass. He was squeezing it, kneading it. "How old are you?" he asked. I'm a lousy liar and my head dipped, shamefully, as I mumbled, "Eighteen." The man laughed. "You're not eighteen. How old really?" I lied again, this time saying, softly, "Fifteen." "More like it," was all he said in return. His hand was now between my legs, fondling my little balls. Other men on the beach, some nude, like this one, others in Speedos, were watching. Staring, actually. "You look cute in your little swimsuit. Though it's not actually a swimsuit is it?" I shook my bowed head. The man's hand was giving me an erection. He was getting one too. Although his was large and manly and out in the open. "No," I replied. "Where'd you get the panty?" I swallowed and said, "My mom. I borrowed it." "She know you came to the beach?" I nodded. "She knows I went to SOME beach." "How'd you get here?" The man's hand was now caressing my penis in panty's vee-front. It was curving off to one side, the left, and I was afraid, already, I might cum. I stilled his hand with mine. "On my bike." "You rode your bike over the causeway here?" "Yes." The man, the stranger, old enough to be my father, was back to kneading my ass in the silky microfiber. "That takes some balls." The man's penis was standing, curving, straight up now. It was circumcised. Below them hung a pair of balls easily four times the size of mine. It wasn't a long ride from the small rental house I shared with my mom. Five miles, maybe six. I'd left at dawn, when traffic was light. I'd pedaled off the main road, the causeway road, onto the narrow strip of unmarked asphalt that led, at its near end, to this end of the beach. The hidden end. The gay beach. I'd pushed my bike through an opening in the mangroves and chained it to a thick branch. I'd been the first one there. I was alone, as the sky to the east became a gaudy palette of colors. I'd removed my shorts and shirt and slip-on shoes and headed for the water. The gently breaking waves. I waded out and then dove in. The water was like a warm bath. The man squinted up at the sky. He was nearly a head taller than me and had a three or four-days growth of beard that was flecked grey. I, on the other hand, kept my eye on the chorus of men at his back. They were inching closer. It was as if they wanted to get in line--to have a turn with me. "It's getting hot. Already," the man observed. "I have a beach bungalow not far from here, to the south. We could go there and have a cold drink." He added, "You could wear your little panty. I go nude there most of the time. No one can see us." Irrationally, I asked, "What time is it?" "I don't' know. About nine-thirty. Ten." I wondered if mom was up yet. She'd gone out on a date last night and that was when I sneaked into her bedroom and "borrowed" one of her colorful panties. She'd brought her date home with her. I'd heard them in her bedroom. The man went on: "You could leave whenever you wanted. Or you could spend the afternoon. I'll make lunch. Or you could call your mom and tell her you met a friend and are going to spend the night." Something--adrenaline--a thrill--shot up inside me. Spend the night with another man? I'd always wanted a dad. I longed for one. My real one was AWOL. "Think she'd let you?" the man asked. I had one card to play. If mom liked the guy she was with and if I spent the night elsewhere she--she and her friend--could have the house to themselves tonight. It was worth a shot. A try. I swallowed--saliva. "I'd follow you on my bike?" I asked. "I'd drive slow. It's just a mile or so down the road, on the left. Want to go?" The man had turned and put his arm around me. Now we stood, side by side, looking at the chorus that was looking at us. Staring at our erections. His in plain view, mine slanting off to my left inside mom's panty. The men were creepy. I wanted to get away from them. Now. "Yes," I was quick to agree. I was down on my bare knees on the man's linoleum kitchen floor. I was sucking his cock. He was a real mouthful and my lips were stretched to the max--as wide as they would go. He'd asked me if I'd ever sucked a man's cock before and when I told him no he said he'd teach me, show me "the tricks." As my head bobbed--I had a rhythm down now--he told me to fondle his balls with one of my hands. Unlike me he had a thick, very thick, sack. I had to squeeze it hard to feel the individual balls inside. Once I had this down he told me to reach around with my free hand and caress his ass. Squeeze it, knead it. My head and mouth faltered as I tried to do this but eventually I managed it all--sucking, fondling and kneading. Towering above me, the man laughed and said this was how to give a proper blowjob. This was the "full Monty." Because of my inexperience my jaw gave out quickly, and I pulled back, out of breath. I wiped my mouth as he said, "You did good. Just need to work on your stamina." I would have gone back to sucking him but he turned and picked up his glass and took a pull on the straw. He'd poured me a soda, over ice, shortly after our arrival, while making himself an alcoholic drink. It didn't pass my notice that the man considered me old enough to have sex but not old enough to drink. I got to my feet. I took hold of his cock. I wanted it. "Let's go in the bedroom," he said. And once again I felt that stab of adrenaline. Kids at school, the tough kids, liked to brag about their supposed sexual adventures. But I was about to have a real one--with another man. From now on I could stand off to the side, smirking, while they bragged. I would know first hand what they only fantasized about. Lied about. He told me to take off my panty. Then, as he went to a bedside drawer and opened it, he told me to get on the bed. In position. He told me to take two pillows and stack them in bed's center and lie atop them, on my belly, and to spread my legs. As he climbed between them, my slender legs, he told me to spread them wider. "As wide as they'll go." My heart was racing. It felt like it would beat out of my chest. I obeyed. As he lubed his cock up he told me he'd go slow, be gentle. "I'll only go as deep as you can take me this first time. It gets easier, each time you do it. If you come back next week, and I hope you will, it'll be easier. And easier still the week after that. You'll be a pro in no time at all." A pro? I wondered. His lubed head was against my hole. He pushed, guiding his penis by its thick base. He pushed again and as I lay there grimacing he entered me. An inch. He pushed in another inch saying, "You're so tight. You OK?" My reply came out garbled. Gargled. "Yes," I claimed. He pushed deeper. "I'm nearly halfway there. You OK?" I nodded this time, my left cheek resting on a third pillow. My nod made a rustling sound. He pushed again and, as I cried out, said that was as deep as he'd go. This time. He began his adumbrated fucking motion, entering me incrementally deeper with each thrust, and as he did so, as he fucked me, my tightness and my tension and apprehension began to give way and I experienced, finally, ultimately, pleasure. Pure pleasure. I moaned with each thrust. His motion was firm and steady but also gentle. Caring, it seemed. As he fucked me I saw the staring faces of that chorus of men on the beach again. The ghosts. I squeezed my eyes shut, blotting them out. "You like it?" he asked at one point. "Yes." "Huh?" "Yes!" "Next week I'll put it all the way in you. Or as deep as I can go. It gets easier," he repeated. "Or we can do it later tonight if you stay." I faced the bedside clock. We'd been at it, since he first pressed his lubed head to my anus, about ten minutes now. My hole had opened up--dilated. It was as wide as his cock now. He slid in and out of me easily now. I felt a tingle inside me, warm and fulfilling and pleasurable. The ultimate pleasure. I cried out--once, twice. He cried out in a deeper, throatier voice. He stopped his motion, abruptly, and for a moment I could feel him pulsing, ejaculating inside me. He resumed his motion and finished emptying his big balls in me. He pulled out of me and I could feel his cum oozing out of my dilated hole. I could feel it running down my crack to my balls. The man, with a sigh, placed both his hands on my ass and said, breathlessly, "You did great! That was good! You're...no longer a virgin! How's it feel?" It felt great. It felt good. "Fine," my understated reply. "You'll remember this the rest of your life." The rest of my life? I was only twelve, going on thirteen. My life to come seemed like an infinity, an eternity. The man brought a damp towel from his bathroom and wiped my crack and balls clean of cum and lube. "You were wonderful, sweetheart," he said. "I'll make us some lunch." Sweetheart? A man had called me sweetheart? After lunch I called my mom. The first panicked words out of her mouth were: "Where are you?" "I went to the beach. You were asleep." "What beach?" "A beach." "Which beach? Your voice sounds different." After a pause I said, "I met a friend of mine from school here. Him and his parents. They invited me to spend the night." "What friend?" "A friend." "What's his name?" I could hear a male voice in the background. I decided my chances were good. I made up a name: "Derrick." "Derrick who?" "I don't know his last name. I forget." After another pause, at her end this time, she said: "Listen. I was looking for one of my panties. The one with all the flowers on it? You know the one I'm talking about? My favorite? Have you seen it?" I looked down at myself. A hand was groping, caressing, kneading me in it. Later he would pull them down and fuck me a second time, penetrating me all the way this time. "No," my reply.