0 comments/ 102027 views/ 0 favorites Swimming Lessons By: RRHomepc As I stretched out under the sun in the lounge chair next to the pool, I kept my mind busy reading some erotica, yet somehow managed to eye him every time he walked by. He was busy working around the yard and I was just getting some rays before I left my island. Claiming heat and needing to cool off from the Caribbean sun, I got into the pool. The coolness of the water was inviting, my nipples responded quickly, and obviously. Toward the back of the pool there were some water jets. They felt so good against my nipples and around my back. Before I knew it, I was slowly lifting myself up on the edge as the water barely gushed against my clit. Already feeling aroused, the pressure and vibration against my pussy was exactly what I needed -- not to relieve the situation, but rather to keep it from fading. I'm not usually shy when I'm horny so I openly enjoyed its massage and felt myself falling under a spell of sensations. Inviting him into the pool with me, was not a problem, as he could clearly see what I was doing. As he walked down the steps, his erection became obvious, the wetness of his baggy trunks clung mercilessly across his hips, outlining his big cock. I playfully swam around, slow deliberate moves, my long legs spreading ever so far then diving under right in front of him. My ass playfully close to his face, my pussy's lips pressing obviously hard against my bikini. He took a playful dive himself, stripping his trunks and setting his cock free. Diving up towards me he ended naturally between my legs. As I lifted my legs to encircle his waist, I began caressing his nipples which were extremely perky and responsive. A dull hollow groan was extracted from somewhere deep within him. As he held me up against his hardness, he cupped my ass roughly, forcing me to press even harder against him. My moans of need and pleasure an obvious indication of my consent. We kissed deeply, hungrily. Another dive from him and there went the bottom of my bikini. Playfully he came up behind me and showed me the treasure he found as he undid my top with his teeth. Bending me over slightly, actually dipping my head into the pool, he stroked and caressed my pussy from the back with his hand and with the big head of his cock. My pussy lips were full and swollen, my insides were pulsating and wet, ready for entry. As he turned me around to straddle him, he began making an entry. Water is not a friend of intimacy. No matter how ready both persons are, it just counteracts with the smoothness of intercourse. But, through our kissing, feeling and playing we continued. It was a challenge. As his head made entry, I felt my insides slowly giving in to him. I wanted him inside me so bad that I believe this too, was causing tension between us and preventing us from achieving any swift motion. But, we continued playfully, playing with each other's nipples, tongues and asses. My pussy is naturally very tight, so just being there is a challenge in itself; once you're inside, however, you are welcomed by it's moistness, heat and hug. My gasp at one of his thrusts was a clear indication that he made it inside me all the way; his grunts acknowledging his victory. We fucked real slow. We fucked real hard. We fucked real fast. Our bodies were under the beautiful Caribbean summer sun and we could feel its heat on our bare skin. There were no houses close by and those that were, stood unoccupied. Mounting in desire, as we continued our savagery we progressively got louder, and louder. As I usually find myself lost somewhere during my ecstasy, I usually don't realize it, but I can get pretty loud and just not give a fuck. I could hear him calling my name, saying "Oh God, Rosa, yes, yes" and praising me for having such a warm, wet pussy that clung on to him like no other. Once in a while, he shoved me by the chest and dunk me into the depths of the pool while he still fucked me. I could practically bend over backwards and touch the pool's floor. With his hard cock ramming into me and my legs wrapped around his calves and thighs, I sometimes felt like I might drown. Devilishly, he would hold me down a bit longer when he saw I was trying to come up for air or to make a sound, and would drill me even harder, causing me to want to moan and take in a breath underneath. Eventually he would let me up and just as the water passed my face I would take in a breath that would send me back into the depths of the pool and my pleasure. There were times I thought I would pass out from lack of air and the thought was extremely erotic. Yet he always seemed to save me at the right moment. He took me to the stairs and bent me over, allowing me to hold on to the rail. My moans, screams and sexy instructions could be heard clearly by anyone within a half mile, but we didn't care. We continued our animalistic behavior and enjoyed so much what we were experiencing, that we had nothing to hid from, nothing to be ashamed of, just pure lust, sex and pleasure. Come as many times as I may, somehow I never run out of moisture and that's what he likes best about me. He likes to look down when he is behind me and see his cock covered in my wetness. The smell of me engulfing his senses and begging for his climax. We had often talked about me drinking his come, but I never had because he took such pleasure in coming inside of me. But this time, as his climax approached, he asked if he could come in my mouth and I hungrily took him in. His cock was wet and slick from my come and smelling that, tasting on him, was one of the most erotic things that I have yet experienced. As I licked him clean, and hungrily took him into my mouth, he held on to the curls cascading around my shoulders. Loudly he screamed for release, his balls, tight and small now and his head ever-growing in my mouth, confirming his threat. As he spilled in my mouth I felt a flood of new emotions. My senses took in the flavor, the texture, the saltiness, the sweetness, the sticky, warm fluid that filled my mouth and confused my taste buds. Just as I thought my mouth couldn't hold any more I felt the come pumping down his shaft again, making me swallow and open up for more. I drank him down completely and as I did, he stood there, straight and tall, his head back a bit, eyes closed, mouth open, praising me and just enjoying the experience. He said no one had ever done that to him before, and I hadn't done it for anyone else either, so it was an extremely gratifying experience for both of us. Every time I licked my lips that afternoon, I thought about what we'd done. As if that was not enough, occasionally warm pool water would drip out of my pussy and caused me to smile mischievously. Swimming Lessons It was a sweltering August afternoon in Oklahoma. She decided to drive to the lake to cool off. She drove around the lake until she found her turnoff road, if you could call it that. After bumping through and swerving around the holes, she arrived at her destination. It was quiet, peaceful, and deserted, or so she thought. This was where she always came when she wanted a peaceful swim. She slowly took off her tank top, shorts, and underclothes before heading toward the water. No one ever came out to this area of the lake so more often than not she swam naked. She didn't know that "he" hiked the trails around the lake. He came upon her just as she stepped into the water and he stopped in his tracks. She was totally naked. She slowly waded out until the water lapped at her thighs. He stared at her large tits as the bounced while she walked. Her round nipples got hard and caused his dick to harden. Then she dove under the water. While she was underwater, he quickly divested himself of his clothes and followed her path into the water being careful to not make any sounds. As she came up for air he wrapped his arms around her ample waist, her tits resting on his arms. She started to scream, but he motioned for her silence by putting his finger over his mouth. She wasn't sure what to do. She'd never seen anyone out here and she didn't know who he was. Next, he started nibbling on her neck. She knew that felt good and would just wait and see where this led. She tilted her head sideways, so he could get a better taste. He used his hands to caress her bobbing breasts. Her nipples hardened even more in response. She leaned herself into his hands and moaned. It felt so good the way her breasts molded so well into his hands. She hadn't been with anyone in so long that she almost forgot what it felt like. She turned around and kissed him. He reached and grabbed her ass, bringing her closer to him. She darted her tongue in and out of his mouth. He pulled her head closer. She could feel his hardened dick between her closed legs. She moved her hands down his back until she reached his buttocks. There, she drew circles on each cheek, and then she grabbed him and pulled him closer, his dick partly her thighs slightly. He trailed kisses down her chest. He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked on it until she moaned. She leaned into him and reached down and grabbed his dick. She stroked him fast at first and then slow and firm. He moaned and leaned into her hand. He reached down and parted her thighs with his hand and rubbed her clit. She cried out and gasped as he entered her with one of his fingers. She began rocking her hips back and forth to meet his hand. She didn't realize her hand was moving in time with his as she stroked him faster and faster. He felt her tense up on his finger. When he took his finger out of her pussy, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He thrust upward and entered her. She came again and ran her nails down his chest. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock as he rammed his cock in and out of her. She stroked him faster and faster. She cried out. It felt so good. She began to rock against him. He thrust deeper and harder. He twisted his head sideways, and she took advantage of the opportunity. With her tongue, she traced around his ear. Then she delved her tongue deep in his ear. In and out she went with her tongue in time to their rhythm. They increased the pace and she dug her nails into his muscled shoulders. He grabbed her ass so he could fuck her faster. He slid his finger closer and closer to that opening and she opened her eyes in surprise as he stuck a finger slowly inside. She came again. He thrust one final time and she cried out. He fell backward into the water taking her underneath with him. As soon as they came up, he grabbed her behind her head and knees. Then he carried her to shore, sat her down, and dried her off with her towel. Next, he picked up her clothes piece by piece and placed it on her still moist body. When she was dressed, he turned, grabbed his clothes, and walked back through the trees. She grabbed the rest of her stuff and got into her car watching as he disappeared into the trees surrounding her favorite watering hole smiling. Swimming Lessons I smiled at her, took a quick breath and dove into the pool. My hands broke the water, then I felt the cool water rush up my arms and toward my face. Instinctively my eyes closed. The water continued to engulf me. My body slowed down and I for a few moments, I floated almost weightlessly; quiet and peaceful. The air bubbles around my body slowly faded away and I sank to the bottom of the pool until my left shoulder brushed against the tile. I pushed off and opened my eyes just in time to see my pet jump into the water. She wasn't quite as elegant as me, but for someone who just months ago was terrified of the water, she had made impressive progress. With a few quick strokes I got closer and emerged from the water right in front of her just when she pulled her bikini top back down. "I'm sorry, Master," she said in a low but whiny voice. I brushed the water out of my face and started to laugh. "Well, so much for being decent in public," I said and watched her cover up her boobs. "I can dress you up and take you anywhere but it just breaks my heart to hide those little things." A hint of red appeared on her cheeks and her eyes darted around the room. "There is nobody here to listen," I said and smirked. "It's just 6am." "Yes, Master," she whispered. Her cheeks turned a darker shade of red, then she pulled up the left side of her bikini top and flashed me her boob again. Her nipple was rock hard. "Nice," I said but before she had a chance to respond, I went under again. I put arms on the edge of the pool and gazed across the pool at her frightened face. "Come on," I said. "It's just 6 foot." She shook her head so vigorously that I had to fight not to laugh. "I'll be right here," I said. I kept my voice calm and steady and gave her my most confident smile. The water was hiding how hard my heart was beating and I knew I was going to get her past her irrational fear. "I'll make sure you're save." Again she shook her head, a little less violently, as if she was trying to tell me that I was wearing her down her resistance. "Alright," I said and pushed off. "I'll be right here, at the 5 foot marker where I can stand. Come here." I lifted my arms out of the water to proof that I had solid ground under my feet. For a few seconds she just looked at me and I could tell how much she was struggling with herself; the expression on her face changed so quickly it almost looked like she was grimacing. I waited for a minute but when I still didn't see an improvement in her demeanor, I decided to put her in her place. "Now, slave," I said loudly. Her eyes opened wider and her whole body froze. Omitting any affectionate address and just pointing out her proper place did exactly what I had intended. "Now," I said, giving my voice a more generous tone again. She started to shake her head but moments later she leaned forward and started to swim. "That's a good girl," I said. Her motions were clunky but it didn't matter. I had won. She had won. With the slow strokes like I had taught her, my girl swam closer until my fingers brushed against her arm. A smile flashed over her face but then her body jerked and the smile was replaced by an expression of pure horror. Maybe it was my touch, maybe someone walking by. I couldn't tell and at that moment it didn't matter. As quickly as my arms would move I reached out for her, grabbed both her arms and pulled her into a safe embrace. "Good girl," I whispered and folded my arms around her. She was shivering, again or still, and her arms grabbed me with force of a strangling python. "Good girl," I repeated and started to inch my way backward to the edge of the pool. Soon only the tips of my toes still touched the ground but I anyway managed to reach the edge without swallowing water. "Good girl," I said a third time and slowly turned until her back was pressed against the green tile. I expected her to grab onto the edge but instead her grip on my body only tightened. Immediately I changed my plans. "There is nothing to worry about," I said quietly and pushed off the edge again. The weight of her body quickly pushed me under but even with my face covered with water, I managed to keep her steady. It didn't make her relax but at least her panic didn't seem to grow any further. Slowly we drifted toward the shallow end of the pool. When my feet touched the bottom again, I stood up and waded toward the edge with her still latched onto me. "You can let go now," I said when we were just a few steps away from the edge. Her small body wasn't that heavy but I wanted to get her to relax before anyone else joined us in the pool area. Other hotel guests had already started to appear; most of them heading for to breakfast, others just grabbing a newspaper from the table on the other side of the glass wall. "It's alright," I whispered and gave her a gentle kiss. Her shivering had already slowed and when your lips parted, she nodded and let me out of her embrace. "See, nothing to worry about," I said and gave my most generous smile. "I promised to make sure you'll be fine and I kept my word." She nodded and shyly returned my smile. Her mouth opened but then she closed it again without saying a single word. "Then lets go upstairs," I said. We kissed one more time, then I took her hand in mine. I squeezed her hand gently as we got out of the pool and walked over to our shirts and shoes. Quickly I dried off and put on my shirt, then I looked my girl. She had turned away from me and was wiggling her rear suggestively as she was bent over, drying her legs. She had recovered surprisingly quickly. The elevator doors had barely closed behind us when she dropped to her knees and pulled aside my swimsuit. "Thank you for rescuing me, Master," she said and moments later all of my soft cock disappeared between her lips. For a split second I thought about punishing her for not asking permission, but when her tongue started to circle to head of my cock, I let it go. She was good, really good. I closed my eyes and began to moan but then the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop and the door started to open. My girl spun around and started to straighten up at the same time. "Oh, that startled me," she said and smiled at the woman that was now standing in front of us. She was in her early thirties, well dressed. I smiled at her and moved out of the way as she stepped inside. She smelled heavy of perfume but it was a pleasant flowery scent. "Six please," the woman said. Without an answer my girl pushed the button for the 6th floor, then she backed up toward me. Her butt pressed against my crotch and I just couldn't help myself anymore. Without warning I slid my hand into her bikini bottom. For a moment she tensed up but then she remembered what I had taught her and she pushed her hips back against me. My fingers slid between her buttocks and without hesitation I thrusted two of my fingers deep into her rear. I could hear her inhale sharply but then she stood there perfectly still, squeezing my fingers with her muscles. It seemed like forever until the elevator reached the 6th floor. Without turning around, the woman stepped outside but I decided to not let my girl off so easily. "Good save," I said out loudly before the elevator doors even started to close. "She'll never know you were giving me a blowjob." My girl's anus clamped down on my fingers so hard I was afraid they were going to break but when the other woman started to turn, I forgot all about the pain. The woman's face was stern, almost angry, but when the doors began to close, she suddenly smiled. "Oh, I already knew," she said with an almost motherly voice. "You're lucky to have each other." I blushed bright red. I had planned to humiliate my girl but that plan thoroughly backfired. Elevator doors never closed that slowly. Somehow we made it to our room without me ever taking my hand out of her bikini bottoms. With my free hand I put the do not disturb sign up and then pushed her inside. "Master," she moaned and as soon as the door fell shut, she pushed me against the wall and kissed me passionately. I returned her kiss, thrusting my tongue deep into her mouth, enjoying every moment of it but then I suddenly pushed her away. "This was very inappropriate," I told her. "Your body is there for my pleasure but you don't have rights to mine. You need to ask permission." I thought I saw a flicker of anger in her eyes but when I motioned her to turn around, she started to smile again. "I'm sorry, Master," she said and pushed her rear toward me. Somehow her bikini bottoms had already come off and she was once again wiggling her round behind at me. "I'll do that later," I said and turned to the sink. Towels, bags of toiletries and the pink, tacked bra she was wearing earlier covered the counter around the sink. I knew my hair brush was somewhere under that mess but when I noticed her styling brush right on top, I stopped looking. It would do. Quickly I pulled the hair out from between the thick plastic bristles, then I turned back to my girl. She still had her rear pushed out but now that she knew what was coming, her buttocks were firmly clenched. When I was done with the brush, she was breathing heavily and her muscles twitched. "That's a good girl," I complemented her efforts to remain silent throughout her spanking. Then I took a step backwards and admired my work. Her buttocks were red, but not how I had expected. Instead of a solid, bright red, her skin spotted dark purple. "That is going to hurt tomorrow," I said. "Hurt... today...," she moaned between her deep breaths. I nodded and was about to tell her that I was sure it hurt today too when she showed me that I had misunderstood her. With all the energy she had left she thrusted her hips rearward and spread her legs so far that her pussy lips parted. "Today... please...," she muttered but I barely heard her words. I was focused on the drop of her juices that started to form on her inner labia. The drop grew and grew until it could no longer hold on. In slow motion, it started to sink, forming a long tear drop shape. The neck stretched until the drop was hanging several inches below her pussy, then the neck suddenly snapped and the drop fell to the carpet. For a second it was sitting on top of the surface of the carpet, then it suddenly vanished, soaked up by the blue fibers. "Please, Master, please," she begged again and this time she got my attention. "Please what," I asked and stepped closer again. "Please hurt me," she whispered. Her breathing had slowed down enough that she could speak normally but I knew just the way to change that. "I don't want to hear a single noise," I said. "Yes, Master," my girl said and arched her back again. Quickly I checked the bristles of the brush. They were made of pink plastic, short and stubby, and had nice round ends. Painful, but not enough to draw blood. "Please," she begged again but I didn't need any more invitations. I reached between her legs, pushed her pussy lips apart with my fingers and then pressed the tip of the brush against her sensitive opening. Immediately she pulled away. Her hips rotated forward so quickly I had a hard time keeping the brush aimed at her pussy. "Not..." I started but when she stopped moving and I realized that I had judged her wrong. She had never intended to avoid the brush. All she needed was a little more space to move. My fingers curled harder around the handle of the brush, just in time to meet her sudden thrust herself backward. It took two more thrusts for her to take the rest of the brush into her pussy, then she fell forward against the wall and started to whine. "Master, please..." I ignored her voice and grabbed her pussy lips instead. She said two more words, then her voice turned into a series of low grunts. I paused for a moment, letting her wait for the pain that she knew was coming. Then I suddenly yanked on both her pussy lips. Her body buckled and she started to scream but after just a few moments, I let go of her labia and watched how they slowly closed around the handle. It almost looked docile, her perfectly white skin surrounding the black plastic. But there was nothing docile about her words. "Fuck me," she whispered. "Please fuck my ass." I started to smile. It was good that I had finally found a pain toy, but I had other things in mind than just fucking her. "No," I said and gave her a hard smack on the ass. "We were just in the pool and now its time for a shower." For a moment she hesitated and I could feel that her lust was about to overpower her obedience. "Now, my slave," I said and luckily my words were enough. "Yes, Master," she said and slowly turned around. At first she had her head lowered but then she looked up at me. Her eyes were torn wide open and tears were sitting in their corners, ready to run down her cheeks, but at the same time, her lips had formed a warm, happy smile. "Thank you, Master." I nodded in approval and stepped aside. With slow and shaky steps she teetered toward me. Each time her balance shifted from one foot to the other she grunted and when she passed me, I just keep myself from giving her another hard slap on her ass. She yelped but continued her way into the bathroom. Step after slow step brought her closer to the tiled floor. The handle of the brush was clearly visible between her legs and when she bent down to turn on the water I could see that it was already completely covered with her wetness. "Good girl," I said and gave her another smack. Getting into the tub and assuming a proper kneeling position took my pet several tries but finally she managed. I waited until she put her hands behind her back and opened her mouth, then I stepped in front of her and pushed my hard cock into her mouth. Her lips immediately closed around my shaft and I pushed in deeper until I felt her nose brush against my pubic hair. Then I put my hand on the back of her head and forced the rest of my cock into her throat. She was holding her breath and I could feel how she was struggling not to gag. In my mind I counted until 20, then I let go of her head. Immediately she pulled away but only far enough to allow herself to breath. She had long learned that her shower was over as soon as the head of my cock slipped from her lips. "Shampoo," I said and smiled down at her. She moaned something in response, then she reached to the edge of the tub and grabbed the bottle of my shampoo. Her eyes turned upward and it looked almost like she was smiling at me around my cock when she held the bottle up for me. "Thank you," I said and squeezed some of the shampoo on my palm. I handed the bottle back to her and then leaned backward to get my hair wet. The first few times that had caused her to let my cock slip from her lips but by now she had gotten used to me enough that her body magically followed mine no matter how I moved. I had my eyes closed while I lathered my hair and body but the noises she made, showed me exactly what she was doing. The plasticy noise of her body wash bottle opening; the mild tap as she put the bottle back down; the groaning when she tried to watch her legs and feet. Everything was so familiar and I was looking forward to her washing her beautiful blond curls. Quickly I rinsed and then looked down, just in time to see her put the shampoo in her hair. "Good girl," I said and then stood there, enjoying the feel how she took my cock deep again so it wouldn't pop out of her mouth as she lathered her hair. For over a minute her head moved around quickly, then she suddenly stopped. It was time to rinse her hair. For a moment she pulled away to get a some deep breaths, then she thrusted herself down on my cock again and put her hand behind her back. That was out sign that she was ready to rinse. I reached behind me, grabbed the adjustable shower head and pulled it out of its socket. "Close your eyes," I said as I always did, then I aimed the jets of water at her head. We repeated our game once more with the conditioner before I turned off the water. "You're getting better with this," I said and got out of the tub. "Thank you, Master," she said and started to move her yaw, trying to relax her muscles. It was a cute sight; one I never got tired of watching. "You shouldn't have bragged about your deepthroating skills," I said and grabbed my towel. Quickly I dried off, then I tossed the damp towel to her and walked over into the tiny living space. I sat down on the couch and started to flip through the channels, remote in my left, slowly stroking my cock with my right. The programming was lousy but I was anyway not interested in the TV. It was just a way to pass the few minutes until my girl had dried off and crawled into the room. Her hair was still wrapped in the towel and before she could even assume a proper position I motioned her to get on my lap. "Yes, Master," she acknowledged and stood up. The handle of the brush was still sticking out of her pussy but the smoothness of her motions showed that she had gotten used to the pain by now. "This way," I said and motioned her to turn. As much as I enjoyed kissing her and play with her boobs while she rode me, with the brush inside her, that simply wasn't an option. "Yes, Master," she whispered. Her voice was low and husky and as she lowered herself on my lap, I aimed my cock at her anus. "Thank you, Master," my girl moaned. Her anus slowly stretched but for the first time since I had started training her with butt plugs, my cock didn't easily slide into her. For a moment I considered lubricant but then I reached up. "No," she yelped when she felt my hand grasp her hips but it was too late. "Yes," I hissed and forced her down onto my cock. She started to cum before my cock was even all the way in her rear. The brush in her pussy press into my cock and her anus clamped down so hard that it was almost painful. "No," she yelped one more time. She pushed herself hard against me, then her body started to shiver and her mouth opened for a long scream. I reached around her to cover her mouth but her body was jerking so violently that I never even got my hand past her boobs. I tried twice more, then I grabbed her boob and dug my fingers into her sensitive flesh. Moment later I started to cum as well. I was still moaning when she turned her head and looked at me. "I'm sorry I didn't ask for permission, Master," she whispered. "We'll talk about that later," I said and hugged her body tightly against mine, enjoying the feel of the aftershocks of her orgasm still rushing through her body. "Yes, Master," she said and wiggled her hips. "But I just couldn't help myself." She pulled her arm out of my embrace and pointed at the TV. "Look." I brushed her hair out of my face and gazed at the TV. National news were on. "A bank robbery in Alabama?" I asked and reached down between her legs. I found the handle of the brush and started to move it back and forth slowly. She jumped and moaned loudly but then she shook her head. "No, Master. Just watch," she moaned. Her echo had barely faded when the report ended and the reporter came back onto the screen. The picture made me freeze but my girl pushed herself firmly against me, taking all off my cock back into her rear again. "Is that..." I stuttered. "Yes, Master," my girl moaned. "The woman from the elevator." One more time she thrusted herself against me, then she started to cum again. We were definitely going to play in public more often. Swimming Lessons My apartment complex has an outdoor pool. A lot of Asians live in the complex, mostly recent immigrants from China, Thailand and Vietnam, but some second- and third-generation Asian-Americans as well. I often swim in the morning. The pool is too short for lap swimming, but I enjoy floating with the cool water on my body. Usually, I swim so early that I'm the only one using the pool, but one morning I was not alone. A cute Asian girl was already in the pool when I got there, obviously trying to teach herself to swim. She had on a day-glow lavender shower cap. I dove in and swam for a while and then floated on my back, watching her. I offered advice. Her English was understandable, but it was obvious that she was from somewhere else, evidently somewhere far away. I asked, and she giggled and said "China." I continued with my advice and sometimes mimed in demonstration. After a while, I started guiding her hands with mine. Soon she let me hold her to demonstrate how to float, first on her back, and then on her stomach, with my hands on her thighs and under her little breasts without touching them, as she kicked and dog-paddled with her arms. She kept thanking me for my help, but of course I was enjoying touching her, since she was so beautiful and young. I'm 47. She said that she was 18 and that she'd come to America to go to college. She lived with her Americanized great-aunt and her husband. She said that she wanted to go swim in the ocean. There was no ocean where she lived in China, and the first time she'd seen it was when she flew over it, one her way to America. She was chattering away, nervously, I guess. As I guided her and advised her in swimming, she let me brush her A-cup breasts several times. Once, while I held her floating with her arms and feet working, I cupped one of her breasts the entire time. Twice, my hand even brushed her pubic mound when I was holding her while she floated. She giggled nervously but said nothing about it. While she rested, standing almost up to her shoulders in the water, she allowed me to massage her narrow shoulders, the back of her neck, the rest of her back and even her butt. I knew that the Japanese thought of the neck as a kind of erogenous zone akin to the breasts or maybe even the pubic area, one that no stranger or family member should touch, but I didn't know what the Chinese thought of it. After a half an hour or so, she said that she was getting cold. The pool is unheated, and as I said, it was early morning. I helped her out of the pool, guiding her to the ladder. Once we were out of the water, I began to dry her all over with my towel. She hadn't known to bring her own. Then I boldly gathered up her stuff and mine as she slipped on her gray sweat shorts over her wet one-piece black bathing-suit. I kept talking to her. She was very docile, like a lot of Asian girls, and she followed me right into my apartment. I told her that she should take a shower to wash the chlorine off and guided her into the bathroom. She stood by watching as I turned on the water in the shower and adjusted it. I turned toward her and looked into her beautiful face. I smiled and reached out and slipped my index finger under the straps of her black one-piece suit at her shoulders and then tugged them down off her thin little shoulders and then over her plumb-sized breasts and then her belly. I caught a glimpse of her quarter-sized chocolate brown nipples, which were pointy and hard and goose-fleshed from the cold water of the pool. She giggled nervously but made no move to resist, so I slipped the wet suit down over her lower belly, her pubes, her hips and then her legs, pulling down her gym sweat shorts at the same time. She just giggled all the louder and covered her breasts with her left arm and hand and covered her pubes with her right hand. However, she stepped out of her suit and put her left hand on my shoulder to steady herself but quickly covered her breasts with her arm again afterward. I helped her into the shower and then slipped my own suit off and climbed in after her. I said that we should wash each others' backs to get off all the chlorine. Her eyes immediately fell to my big hard, up-jutting cock, and she giggled all the louder and more nervously. I didn't want to scare her, but I couldn't hide it. I've heard that whites have bigger dicks than Asians, and I've been told by American girlfriends that I have pretty "big fat" cock. She is only about five feet tall and about one-hundred-and-twenty pounds, and I'm six foot three and easily two-fifty. I washed her back, neck, butt, legs and then her breasts and belly, but I stayed away from her pussy. I turned around and she giggled while she washed my back and the back of my legs, but she completely avoided my butt. Then I washed her again, only this time, after I washed the rest of her, I washed her pussy, reaching around her body from behind, and slipped a culled finger into it. She giggled and giggled but didn't stop me. I even half slipped a finger up her butt, which caused her to giggle all the more. She has a wonderful, girlish, high pitched giggle. I helped her out of the shower and dried her off completely and then quickly dried myself. We left our wet suits on the tiled bathroom floor. We'd left her bag on the table in my little kitchenette. I led her out of the bathroom. She started to go over to her bag, which we'd left on the table in my little kitchenette, but I took her wrist and led her, completely docile, still damp and naked, over to my couch in the living room. I sat and I opened my knees and pulled her toward me, between my splayed knees. I said, "Sweetie, you're very beautiful." I'd asked her name in the pool but had already forgotten it. I did remember that her first name was a Western name rather than a Chinese one. She told me again later: Julie. She giggled nervously as I took her little breasts into my big hands and squeezed them and then tugged on her hard little nipples. I pulled her down on the couch next to me and opened her legs and slipped my finger back inside her warm little pussy. I felt her hymen. I leaned forward and sucked and lightly bit her bubblegum-like nipples. I later read China has had a kind of sexual revolution, but of course not everyone has taken part in it. It's been largely limited to the elites in the big cities along the coast and in the south. As well, it's usually only couples having sex before marriage. Her eyes looked excited and I kissed her mouth again. Her lips didn't open, but I reached up and used my hand on her chin to gently open her mouth as I kissed her a second time. My tongue slipped into her mouth as I kissed her. Her breath smelled strange, due doubtless to the difference in our diets, but of course I didn't mind. I pushed two fingers into her hard and broke her hymen. Her eyes went wide and she sucked in her breath, but that was it. I put her hand on my cock, but she giggled and pulled it away. Then I pushed three fingers into her hard, and she cried out and pushed my hand away, her only act of resistance. However, she let me push her back and climb on top of her, with her skinny little legs wide open and her butt pulled to the edge of the couch. I kissed her neck and then her mouth as I impaled her with my big hard driving cock. She looked frightened but let me do it to her. I fucked her gently and shallow at first, but then harder and deeper, with my knees on the carpeted floor and my hands on her hips. She was crying, but she didn't ask me to stop. After a while I started to grunt, and she looked up at me, no longer crying. I brushed the last of her tears away and leaned down and kissed her. She opened her mouth and my tongue slid into her warm, wet mouth. I was very excited, of course, but I'd jacked off that morning, only little over an hour before, so it took me me a while to cum. I shot my load into her, moaning and crying out. Afterward, she lay there crying. She was afraid that I'd get her pregnant. I explained that I'd had a vasectomy more than a decade before and then had to explain what a vasectomy was, although once she got the concept she knew the Chinese word for it. My cock was bloody and she was dripping blood, so I carried her into the shower again and washed her all over again. She giggled over her still wet bathing suit. Her shorts were damp, but she put them on. I hung up our suits in the shower. It turned out that she had nothing to wear in her bag, so ever the helpful host, a washed both our suits to remove the chlorine but also so that hers would remain good and wet so that she'd have to stay. I didn't even wring it out. She went over to the couch and then to the kitchenette's sink. She got a wad of dry paper-towel and used it to blot up some of the blood and then did her best to wash what was left with a wad of wet paper-towel. I just sat there watching her. Afterward, I took her hand and led her into the bedroom. On the bed, under the covers, I put my arm around her shoulders. She told me that she'd never had a boyfriend. She passively let me kiss her and suck her breasts. We fell asleep, and when I woke up, she was gone, along with all of her stuff, including her wet bathing suit. I began to wonder if I should worry that she'd report me to the police as a rapist or something, but of course there was nothing to do about it. The next morning, she was in the pool again when I got there. Once again she let me hold her in the water and give her advise on swimming and passively let me gather up her belongings as well as mine and followed me back to my apartment, where we showed and then made love in my bed. She'd brought a tee-shirt and and panties and slipped them on afterward but then giggled while she allowed me to pull her panties off and put them back in her bag again, which I dramatically zipped back up again.. I even put the bag on top of the fridge while she giggled. She stayed the afternoon and well into the night, explaining that she couldn't work because she was here on a student visa. It was Sunday, and her aunt and uncle were at work until after midnight. They worked in a restaurant on the North Shore, her uncle as a dishwasher and her aunt as a waitress. Every morning after that, she showed up at my apartment before she went to school, where she was taking two summer classes. The next weekend I took her to the beach, where the early summer New England water was too cold for both of us. End of part one. Next time, her friend joins us. Swimming Lessons A few years after I graduated from high school, I took PE swimming classes at the local university. There were only six of us girls in the class, and we would walk over to the university pool in the afternoon and swim with the frosh class and, more or less, blended in with everybody else. Our swim instructor was very pregnant and, after six months, we were transferred to a male instructor, who held classes in the boys' pool. I remember well our first day with Mr. Atkinson because he wore a new type of suit called a speedo, and this was a new experience for us girls. I was sitting on the bench by the pool waiting for our new instructor. The door opened, and out walked Mr. Atkinson sporting a suit that pretty much showed in vivid outline his private parts. I think that all our mouths dropped. None of us had had much experience with boys, and it was the first time we had seen an unmistakable display of a very real penis. The thin shield of stretchy cloth seemed almost sheer and, in any case, did little to conceal anything. As we sat on the bench, Mr. Atkinson walked back and forth in front of us instructing us on the mechanic of the Australian crawl. While he demonstrated the arm movements, we focused on the bulge in his swimsuit. I supposed that the most amazing thing for me was how clearly the outlines of his penis were etched in the cloth of his suit. My eye was especially drawn to the rim that defined the head of his penis. Since my knowledge of such matter was limited to statues and painting, all I have ever seen were uncircumcised penises. A new thought came into my consciousness: circumcision leaves a man even more exposed, puts him even more on display, and I found this thought very erotic. The second most vivid impression I had was of how long Mr. Atkinson's penis was. I don't know what I was expecting, but his penis was not a minor part of his anatomy. I know now, but didn't know then, that Mr. Atkinson had a whopper! My concept of what a naked man must look like was, more or less, the way I thought he would look like if you just removed the pants he had on. But I was now seeing something that was completely different. It was clear that males sported their sexual equipment front and center, and this made it impossible for him not to have his penis on display. I was beginning to discover something that I would not fully comprehend until much later in my life: the penis is something that you cannot pretend not to notice! The male anatomy won't let you. There is no way to miss it. It is always on display in a fashion that precludes subtly. I was also surprised to see that Mr. Atkinson was completely unfazed by the show that he must have known he was putting on. Fifty years later and after many life drawing art classes, I can easily imagine a nude man standing nonchalant before an audience of women, but then I could imagine a man showing off his "goods" to a group of females in the completely indifferent manner of Mr. Atkinson. We all understood that Mr. Atkinson wasn't technically naked, but it pretty much seemed to us that he was. Indeed, what good did that flimsy suit do if it didn't conceal anything? What his suit did instead was not only revealed everything, but enhance his features as well. Every day for two weeks, Mr. Atkinson wore the same suit and, every day, our eyes were riveted on his manhood. There wasn't a day that all of us didn't meet after class and compare notes on what we had seen. One girl insisted that she had seen him become erect but, even though none of us were sure what an erection actually looked like, we were all fairly sure that it stood out and we hadn't seen anything that looked like that. The big surprise came at the end of the first two weeks. Mr. Atkinson told us that the university had been on spring break and that next week the boys would be back. We would join them for the final weeks of our instruction. We thought that this was fine. What he didn't tell us was that the boy class was held in the NUDE! I will never forget walking through the pool door on the first day and unexpectedly coming face to face with forty completely naked boys. After the initial shock wore off, I surveyed the spectacle before me. The anatomy lesson of that day was that penises come in all sizes and shapes but that the larger ones were more interesting. I knew some of the boys from around town, and my curiosity got the better of me concerning them. As I found them, I checked each one out in great detail. Still, none of them seemed to notice us at all. I later learned that they had had a woman instructor last quarter and so appearing naked before us girls was not a big deal for them. I don't remember much of what happened until we divided into teams for a relay race. Each of us girls was placed with a team in order make the race fair (even though some of us were faster swimmers than the boys we were paired with). There was one boy who had a very large penis, and it was impossible not to notice how it flopped around as he walked around the pool. I was placed right next to him in my team. I couldn't keep my eyes off him; however, standing right next to him didn't afford me the much of a view and certainly not the view I wanted. I would pretend to cheer for my team and walk to the front of our team and look back at him. Eventually, he began to notice that I was eyeing him and also where I was casting my gaze. Not long into the race, I noticed that his penis had lengthened a bit and that the foreskin had peeled back exposing him more fully. I was surprised when I realized that his penis was growing even longer and looked like it was rising. I am sure that my mouth dropped when I saw it standing out like a flagpole perpendicular to a building. I couldn't believe how large it was and how hard it seemed. I knew what this meant, but I didn't know what repercussions might occur because he had reached this state. I mean can you walk with that thing sticking out like that; could you swim with a rudder that big? I quickly realized that this wasn't my own private show. You can't really keep something like that a secret. It is really out there for everyone to see. I now know that it takes some courage for a male to sport an erection in public. It shows more than what most want to show, and there is no way to hide it. All the boys on the team began teasing him, and his face turned about six shades of red. I am afraid mine did too. Still, there was nothing we could do, and so the race went on. When he emerged from the pool after his leg in the race, his erection had subsided. Nevertheless, I had not forgotten what I had seen. About a week later, we were asked to pair up to do some exercise that I now forget. I was paired with my friend with the big penis. We were in water up to our shoulders, but it was clear to me that he was aroused again. This time I did what I only wanted to do last time. I reached down and took hold of his enormous erection, which he willingly let me do. I knew the mechanics of male masturbation, but I had no practical experience. I am sure that I was clumsy, but it didn't take much to send him into orgasm. I felt the spasms as he shot forth his cum into the water, and I saw on his face the release that I experience when I masturbate. Still, I didn't quite know what was happening down there, at least not in any visual detail. I asked if I could meet him after class. He was waiting for me outside the women's locker room. We walked to a secluded part of campus, and I asked if I could perform my services on him again. He responded that he had a new trick in mind. He lowered his pants. His enormous flaccid penis invited my touch. He gently put pressure on my shoulders to lower me to my knees and place his penis in my mouth. By this time, it was rock hard, and all he had to do was move his hips to slide his erection in and out of my mouth. Again, it didn't take long. I noticed a slightly salty, seaweed taste and then a full eruption of a warm fluid that filled my mouth and dripped from the corners of my mouth. Instinctively, I swallowed and continued to milk his penis until it went soft in my mouth. He raised me to my feet and asked if he could perform a return service. I hesitated because I didn't know where this was going. He said perhaps next time, and he walked me home. Well, next time was the next day, and we met after class and went through our sexual ritual, only this time I wanted to see what his orgasm physically looked like. He lowered his pants and I took hold of his penis. Moving my hand back and forth along the shaft and then gently over the engorged rim that defined the head of his penis, I brought him to orgasm very quickly. His cum covered my hand and I continued to stroke him. I loved the way he felt as he went soft in my hand. He asked again if he might return favor and this time I took him up his offer. I remember how lovely his hand felt has he parted the lips of my sex and how my excitement rose as his fingers caressed my clitoris. My body shook as wave upon wave of ecstasy cashed over me. This went on for about a week before I gained enough courage to go further. I don't recommend losing one's virginity to a boy of his size unless it is the right boy at the right time. And it definitely was for me. It took me some time to get him all in, and he stretched me to what I thought was the limit. (I was sore for about a week afterwards.) Still, it was a lovely experience. I will never forget how his hard body rocked into mine until both of us were spent. We would meet regular from then on. Mostly, I took him in my mouth; I didn't want to get pregnant and birth control was an issue. I also allowed him to go down on me, and I learned how wonderfully pleasing a tongue can be. Every now and then, I would take his large member into my body and experience the pleasure of him filling me completely. I suppose that, when our relationship began, I just assumed that one day it would end. But days became weeks, and weeks became months, and months became years. He is now my husband of forty years. Not as often but frequent enough, that monster penis of his stirs and rises to impressive size. I take him in my mouth if I am reasonably sure that I can get him up again for a roll in the hay in the traditional fashion. Feeling him fill me completely is still something I treasure. There is nothing better. At least once a year, I take Tony to the pool at the Y. I make sure that he wears a speedo – one that showed everything – and I make sure that he gives all the young girls a good look. I want them to see what I saw way back then. The suit I like best is sort of translucent, and you can see the real thing in more than outline form. You don't need to imagine as much as just look! We then jump in the water, my hand goes into his suit, and I stroke him until he explodes. His face looks the same as it did fifty years ago. I then quickly get him out of the pool so that his erection is apparent to all. We lie on towels, face up, until his erection subsides and all that is left is an impressive penis covered by a thin piece of cloth that conceals nothing. We count on memories like this to keep our romance alive. Swimming Lessons "I'd like to make an Australian Crawl." Stan gave a hearty laugh and acknowledged an empty glass up the bar. While he was gone, Keith, in turn, acknowledged that his own beer glass had miraculously filled on its own. He didn't have much doubt that Stan was trying to get him drunk so that Keith would go in the back room with him. The burly barkeep had been putting the moves on him for some time now. Keith had to admit, though, that he came back because he was getting a lot of free beer—and also because he was getting closer to giving in to Stan. It wasn't that Stan was bad looking, in a big bruiser, boxed-a-bit-too-often way. And it wasn't because he was old. He probably wasn't older than about forty and obviously still went to the gym, although the bartender was putting a bit of a paunch on him. It was more because Keith had heard that Stan fucked a bit rough. Keith didn't mind getting fucked; he just didn't like to be manhandled all that much—or so he thought. He'd shied away from it enough to only know it as a concept. "And I kinda like the touchy-feely sound of it," Stan said. He was back, looking straight in Keith's eyes to hold the younger man's attention, while he deftly topped off Keith's beer. "The back stroke. The breast stroke—particularly like that one. The side stroke. That's not bad either. And the butterfly. They got an interesting fuck position called the Butterfly in that artsy-fartsy Indian shit—the Camera Suitable, or somethin'. You ever try that? Ever thought of tryin' that? Now the free style, that would really be something I could get in to; I've wrestled semi pro in my day—maybe with some diving. Get it?" He laughed and was off again to serve another customer. But Keith knew he'd be back. This was how Stan moved toward a more direct proposition. And Keith knew Stan had been asking around about him and knew he took cock. So there wasn't much subtle about Stan's propositions when he got down to them. They had been talking about swimming and who at the bar had and hadn't had swimming lessons. It turned out that only Keith had. And he'd also made the mistake of saying that he went to Larson's pond most Saturday afternoon's during the summer for a swim. Larson was a rich guy into both nudism and gay sex. He'd opened his pond to nude sunbathing and anything else guys might want to do during the summer months. All you had to do to get an invitation was to either let Larson fuck you or, if you were a top too, bring Larson someone he could fuck. The latter was what had happened with Keith. Chris, who Keith had been shacking up with at the time but didn't know liked fucking around a lot, had wanted access to Larson's beach. He had taken Keith to the beach and turned him over to Larson while he cruised the other guys. Larson had fucked Keith silly for nearly three hours straight. Keith resented being used by Chris like that and gave him the gate, but he had enjoyed Larson's cocking enough that he continued to come to the beach and let him do him when he wanted to. Larson liked fresh meat, though, and had ready access to it, so he didn't bother Keith much. It was a good routine for Keith. It would be over at the end of summer, of course, as Larson closed down his beach house then and went back to the city. But summer was all about "what the hell," Keith would start worrying about that in September. Stan was back, standing in front of Keith, and leaning into him. They could have easily kissed, if Keith wanted to—and he thought that's probably what Stan wanted. But Keith didn't take the hint. "Wouldn't mind getting some lessons like that down at Larson's pond. Especially if you was the one who was teaching me. What say when I get off work here, we trot on down there and you can teach me some strokes and I'll teach you the Butterfly—you know the Indian one?" He was leaning over the bar toward Keith and leering to beat the band. "Uh, I don't teach swimming, Stan. I can barely remember which stroke I'm using when I'm swimming. And right now I have some place I need to be. Sorry, but—" A beefy hand shot across the bar top and grabbed Keith's forearm. This was what Keith was a bit afraid of. Stan was quite a bruiser and Keith was wary of being alone with him and in his grip. The grip didn't quite hurt, but almost. Keith wondered if Stan realized when he was hurting a man. He looked down at the forearm. A colorful tattoo of some sort of dragon. Keith wondered if Stan had other tattoos—and where. Keith got a little extra aroused by a man with tats. And he couldn't say that Stan didn't arouse him. He just scared him a bit. "Come on, man. You know you want it. And I know you put out. I don't know the names of the strokes I use either, but I can stroke real good. Right here in the back room right now, or I'll meet you down by the swimming pond. I'll teach you the Butterfly. I can dick you deep with that. Chris Tucker told me you go wild with the deep diving. And I got a cock ring. You ever been fucked with a cock ring?" "I really do need to be someplace, Stan." Keith managed to pull himself off the bar stool and out of Stan's grip. What he was thinking mostly was that he'd like to beat Chris Tucker to a pulp. "But you will let me do you sometime, won't you?" Stan asked. There was an intense gleam in his eye. Keith was trembling a bit. He'd thought about it and had decided that, yes, under the right circumstances he'd go with Stan just to see what it was like. One of his friends one night at a party had regaled the guys he was talking to about that cock ring Stan had and how different that felt. That's when Keith had first come in the bar. So, he couldn't say he wasn't interested. He had been wondering for weeks how it felt with a cock ring. "Yeah, sure, we can hook up sometime, Stan," Keith said as he backed away from the bar and acknowledged the good-bye waves of a few of the other patrons, some of whom had been campaigning to get in his ass almost as much as Stan had been. "Just that I have to be somewhere else now." As he left the bar, he tried to review in his mind what he'd told Stan about his visits to Larson's pond. He hadn't actually told Stan when he usually was there swimming, had he? * * * * The sun was out strong on Saturday afternoon and Keith was out on a blanket by Larson's pond working on an all-over tan. He had his Kindle and a good stash of GM action/adventure e-novels he'd downloaded the previous evening, so he was good to go for a while. He wasn't the only one there, and there wasn't the normal crowd for a Saturday, but there was activity enough for him to glance away from the Kindle occasionally to take in the action. Between the fiction and the real, he was managing to keep at least half hard. He was putting off doing anything about that. He'd usually rev up for a while, jerk off, and then take a dip in the pond. If there was time, he'd repeat the cycle. He liked his Saturday summer afternoons at the pond. The action, now that he thought about it, was actually very low for a Saturday. Off on the sand below Larson's vacation house, an area of the beach he reserved for himself, Keith could see Larson's bare rump between two bent brown legs. From the tightening and loosening and forward and backward movement of Larson's buttocks and the way the feet on the legs of the black guy were raising and lowering on the sand, Keith could tell that Larson was giving his usual good fuck. Keith didn't mind Larson fucking him, even though he took a lot of time doing it and left a guy wiped out; it was how Keith kept the welcome sign out for his own pond visits. Larson fucked deep. Chris hadn't been wrong about that; Keith liked that. Nearer, on the same side of the pond where Keith was staked out, two college-type hunks were playing a pass-the-beach ball type of slow-moving game out on the sand. Keith had seen these two out on the beach before. They usually played around like this until someone showed up they liked and then they shared him. And by shared, Keith meant that he had seen them do a guy together, two dicks in one hole, a couple of times. Keith had never done it that way, and although he thought about it, it scared him. He had been pretty standoffish with these guys and usually there were a lot more here on the beach when he saw them. He was usually just part of a crowd. If it looked like they were zeroing in on him, he'd look away or strike up a conversation with another guy. Today, other than Larson humping the guy on his own beach, it was just these guys and Keith here so far. Keith actually thought about retreating for the day when he saw that no one else seemed to be showing up on the beach. He shuddered at the thought of these two working him over. They were both studs and appeared to be about the same age, twenty or something, like Keith himself, but they were quite different in their physical perfection. The guy Keith had named "Thick," was Nordic, blond and hairless. He was on the short side and compact, heavily muscular. Not fat, but solid and on the bulging side when it came to muscles. A ruggedly handsome face. A buzz cut for hair. He was the boisterous one, all smiles and laughter and jocularity. Keith had noticed that when they zeroed in on a guy, he was the one who took the lead in getting a guy interested. The name Thick came, naturally, from what was between his legs. Average in length, but thick. He contrasted with the other guy, who Keith thought of as "Long." He was more the Mediterranean Mafioso type. Swarthy and brooding. Handsome in a dark, silent, sensuous, dangerous sort of way. He was hairy to Thick's smoothness, with intriguingly curling hair on his pecs and down his sternum to his bush. And on his forearms too and his legs. His head hair was curly and a lock fell almost over his eyes. He wore a permanent five-o'clock shadow, and Keith got the impression the guy probably had to shave three times a day to keep it cut back to the exact length. He was taller and thinner than Thick, but still well-muscled, and he, too, got Keith's name for him from what he was swinging. Not thick, but longer than average. Keith thought arousing thoughts of being fucked by them individually, but he wasn't all that sure about this doubling stuff he'd seen them do. And right about now, they were forcing him to make a decision on whether to pack up and leave or stay and take his chances of maybe taking two cocks at once. He usually let someone fuck him here on Saturdays, but this doubling business still had him unsure. Their game was moving closer to him, and the blond was flashing him smiles, working on making contact. Keith had seen this before and knew that this was how they moved in on a target. Keith was about to make a decision when he saw both of them turn and look up at the wooden stairs leading down from the parking lot next to Larson's summer home on the bluff. He let his attention sweep that way too—past the tableau of Larson now being on his back and holding the waist of the young black guy riding his cock—to the top of the stairs, where a young Asian guy—probably Indian—was standing, looking tentatively down at the beach. He was wearing baggy swimming shorts and had a towel and what looked like a pair of water wings tucked under an arm. After a few hesitant moments, he started to come down to the beach. He was wearing flip-flops on thin legs with strongly defined muscles. They had strength in them; they just looked sinewy. A soccer player, Keith thought. The two hunks conversed between themselves momentarily at a volume that Keith could almost, but not quite, hear, and then, the blond having given Keith a wink and a "later" smile, they recommenced their beach ball passing game and moved back along the beach, getting closer to where the Indian was spreading out his towel. The new arrival wasn't tall. Certainly not as tall as Long; more the height of Thick. But he was even thinner than Long was. Keith thought more in terms of wiry than thin, though, as the guy had real good muscle tone. He just was willowy and had long, thin legs, with little meat on the bones. He obviously hadn't realized this was a nudist beach, because he was wearing baggy swimming shorts, emphasizing the thinness of this body—and looking at the other guys but then looking away in apparent slight embarrassment. He was standing below his blanket, nervously eyeing the water and letting his hands prod and knead the inflated water wings like he wasn't really sure how to put them on. He did have inflatable plastic things around his ankles, though, which made him look like a gangly kid. Long had the beach ball and was going back to sit on his towel, arms hugging knees, and watching Thick go to work. Thick sidled up to the Indian. "Going for a swim with those things?" He was gesturing at the water wings. "I want to swim, yes," the Indian answered in precise, but somewhat accented English. "But I've never lived near the ocean. I can't swim." "This isn't exactly the ocean," Thick said with a broad smile. "I think you'd have to get all the way out to the middle before you couldn't touch bottom. You don't really need those wings." "I think I would be scared without them. There may be deeper places. And I might not be able to float." "Yeah, you don't look like you have an ounce of body fat on you and might not float too good," Thick said. "Nice body, though. But you're wearing a suit. Do you know what kind of beach this is?" The Indian was shaking his head back and forth in little dips, which Keith could tell was confusing Thick but that Keith knew was an Indian gesture of "yes." "Yes, I know. Mr. Larson invited me. He has known me." Considering the strange word arrangements of his sentences, Thick probably couldn't be sure that this meant what he'd literally said either. But the way Thick's body relaxed told Keith that this admission was all the permission he needed to target the guy. The mention of Larson caused both of them, and Keith too, to look over at Larson's private beach. He was embracing the black guy's back close in to his chest, and, with the black guy raised a bit on his knees, Larson was fucking up into his ass at a fast pace. As the Indian was looking at that too, The Indian's face reddened up, but he neither looked away nor packed up and left the beach. Thick chose to more assuredly interpret what he said and gestured as acknowledgment that the Indian knew what this beach was for—and that he took cock. Larson didn't invite anyone to use his beach in the summer who didn't give or take cock—and who wouldn't take it from Larson on demand. "Maybe you'd have enough confidence if you had a few swimming lessons," Thick said. "I have thought of taking lessons, but I never have had the time," the Indian answered. "Well, if you have the time today, my friend over there and I could maybe give you lessons in a few basic strokes." Thick drew the Indian's attention to Long and smiled and waved, and Long raised his hand and gave a minimal response. Keith could see the Indian's eyes slit when he saw Long, who was sitting with his legs bent and was squatting close enough to the towel that his cock head reached the towel and turned up, almost winking at the Indian. Maybe the Indian isn't as innocent as he's coming across, Keith thought. "I think my friend and I could teach you a few good strokes," Thick said. He had an arm around the Indian's shoulders and they were walking slowly toward the water. The water wings had dropped to the sand next to the Indian's towel. He still had the bloated anklets on, though. They were orange. Keith almost wanted to laugh. Keith watched for a bit, as Thick and the Indian stood in water up to their knees and Thick was showing the Indian how to position and move his arms in swimming strokes. There was a lot of hands-on work and Thick had gotten hard. The Indian couldn't have not noticed that. Well, he's on his own, Keith thought, and went back to reading his Kindle and turned onto his belly, facing away from the water, deciding that it was time for sun on the back. When he turned back to lie on his back and took his attention away from the Kindle, he saw that Thick was in business. The Indian was floating on his back—his torso actually looking like it was floating, but from Thick's stance, it was possible that Thick's arms were under the Indian's back, supporting him in the water. The Indian's arms were spread straight out from his side and they looked like they were floating. The Indian's legs were spread and floating on top of the water—at least the inflated anklets were working a charm. Thick was standing between the Indian's thighs, and from the wave patterns in the water, it was fairly evident that Thick's cock was buried in the Indian's ass and that the blond was pulling the Indian on and off his cock. What were doing the best job of floating were the Indian's baggy swimming shorts. They were floating on the surface of the pond all by themselves and off to the side, remaining afloat with the big air bubble inside them. Keith wondered what stroke Thick had told the Indian this was. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye up the beach and saw Long languidly unfolding himself, rising, and slowly sauntering toward the water line. He was at least half hard. In following Long with his eyes, Keith's attention went to Larson's private beach. It was empty now except for a mussed-up beach blanket. But up on the bluff on the house's porch overlooking the water, Keith could see that Larson was sitting on a chair and the black guy was in his lap, facing away from him, and moving his hips up and down on Larson's cock with the leverage of his feet. Larson had an arm around his waist and both appeared to be watching what was going on in the pond while they languidly fucked. Keith tore his attention away from that action and went back to reading his Kindle. He was a little concerned for the Indian, whether or not this was really what he'd come here for, and whether he was getting into more than he bargained for, but Keith didn't want to get involved. He thought he really should just pick up his blanket and leave, but he had just a bit more to read in this chapter. He got to the end of the chapter and it had one of those cliff hangers that bugged him about what a character he liked was going to do to get out of trouble, if, indeed he did, so Keith kept on reading. It was the sounds coming across the water that arrested Keith's attention and made him look up. The Indian was being quite vocal. At first Keith thought he was in distress as he was using curse words that Keith wouldn't have thought an Indian would even know. But as Keith paid more attention to the words, he realized that the Indian was enjoying himself and most of what he wanted his tormenters to do with themselves, he wanted them to do to him. The three were plastered together in the water, the surface level of which reached just below where the obvious action was taking place. The tableau was familiar to Keith. Long was behind the Indian, leaning back, his arms crossed and embracing the Indian under the Indian's pecs. Keith had no doubt that Long had his cock snaked up the Indian's channel. Thick was plastered in front of the Indian, holding the Indian's thin, long legs up and spread from his body. Thick's buttocks were making waves in the water behind him as he took long, slow strokes inside the Indian's channel on top of Long's stationary cock. The Indian was clutching the tips of Thick's shoulder blades with his white-knuckled hands. His head was thrown back into Long's shoulder, and his mouth was hanging open. He was practically yodeling. Up on the bluff, the young black guy's back was arched down to the floor of the porch, with his arms spread on the porch over his head. Larson was gripping his waist and pulling him on and off his cock. Swimming Lessons Daddy and 'little girl' get wet. All characters are over 18. * * * * * Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (27 min/mp3) * * * * *