I’d taken the day off specifically for this secluded stretch of beach, knowing it was clothing-optional and usually empty mid-week. The sun was high, the waves steady, and I’d just stripped down to my shorts when she appeared at the top of the dune path.
She was striking—dark hair spilling over her shoulders, average height but built strong and athletic, wide hips swaying as she walked, legs shapely and toned. The bright pink string bikini top barely contained her full breasts; even from a distance, I could see the long, prominent outline of her nipples pressing against the thin fabric. Tiny denim shorts hugged her pert ass and the curve where thigh met hip.
She paused a few yards away, towel and bag in hand.
“Hi,” she said, voice warm but a little cautious. “Is it okay if I set up next to you? Last time I was here, some guy kept hovering and… it made me uncomfortable. You seem… safe. Decent.”
I smiled, trying to look as non-threatening as possible while shirtless and half-undressed. “Of course. Plenty of space. I’m just glad I’m not the weird one today.”
She laughed softly and spread her towel a respectful distance away—but close enough that I could smell coconut sunscreen when the breeze shifted.
The heat climbed fast. I was already glistening; she had the better spot, half under the wide umbrella she’d planted. After a while, she glanced over.
“You’re frying over there. Come share the shade?”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I moved my towel closer, settling beside her. Conversation drifted easily: favorite beaches, worst sunburns, how rare it was to find a place this quiet. Then she tilted her head.
“I hope I didn’t ruin your plan to go full nude. I’m not here to police anyone.”
Before I could answer, her fingers were already tugging the knot behind her neck. The pink top fell away. Her breasts spilled free—heavy, round, with those long nipples already stiffening in the open air. She reached for the sunscreen bottle, squirted a generous dollop into her palm, and began rubbing it over the soft upper curves, then lower, cupping each breast and sliding her hands in slow, deliberate circles. Her thumbs grazed the thick, elongated tips; they tightened further under the touch. I felt my cock twitch hard against the fabric of my shorts.
She lay back on her elbows for a moment, letting the sun hit her, then hooked her thumbs into the bikini bottoms and slid them down her legs. Dark hair trimmed into a neat triangle, hips flaring wide, the lean plane of her stomach flexing as she stretched.
“Mind if I soak up the sun properly now?” she asked, voice light.
“Not at all,” I managed.
She propped herself on one elbow, looking me over. “Your turn?”
I stood, pushed the shorts down, and stepped out of them. My cock was already half-hard from watching her hands on her own breasts. It swayed heavily as I lay back down beside her.
A few minutes passed in comfortable silence. Then she rolled onto her stomach.
“Would you mind doing my back?” she asked. “I always miss spots.”
I took the bottle, warmed lotion between my palms, and knelt beside her. Her skin was hot from the sun. I started at her shoulders, working down the graceful line of her spine, thumbs pressing into the small of her back. Her ass was perfect—round, firm, the kind that begged to be gripped. My cock brushed the back of her thigh as I leaned forward to reach her lower back. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she sighed, soft and appreciative.
“Feels good,” she murmured. “You’ve got nice hands.”
My erection thickened with every pass. The head grazed her skin again—accidental, then less so. She arched just enough to let me know she felt it.
When I finished, she rolled onto her side, facing me, one breast resting against her arm, nipple pointing skyward.
“Getting hot again,” she said. “Want to cool off in the water?”
She stood without waiting for an answer, giving me that same slow smile over her shoulder. “Come on.”
I followed her into the surf. Waist-deep, the water was still warm but refreshing. We drifted closer—shoulders brushing, then hips. Her hand grazed my forearm, then stayed. She caught me staring at her breasts again; the nipples were even longer now, dark and rigid.
“They get a lot of attention when I’m cold,” she teased.
“It’s definitely not cold out here,” I said.
Her lips curved. “No. They get hard and long for other reasons, too.” She winked, playful but unmistakable.
She turned and started walking back toward shore, water streaming off her curves. I stayed a moment longer, trying to will my cock down. It didn’t listen. By the time I followed, I was semi-hard, thick and heavy, swinging with each step as I emerged.
She watched every inch of the walk, eyes unapologetic.
When I reached the towels, she tilted her head. “You’re looking a little pink already. Let me get your front before you burn.”
She motioned for me to lie down. I did. She straddled my thighs—careful but not coy—her breasts swaying close to my face as she squirted lotion onto her palms. The scent of coconut and warm skin filled the air.
She started at my shoulders, then my chest, fingers spreading wide. Her nipples hovered inches from my lips; every breath I took brushed them. She worked lower, over my stomach, then paused just above my cock, which was now fully erect, straining upward.
Her eyes met mine. No words—just that same slow smile.
One slick hand wrapped around me. She stroked once, twice, base to tip, thumb circling the head. Then she leaned forward and took me into her mouth.
The heat was sudden, overwhelming. Her tongue swirled, lips tight, sliding down until I hit the back of her throat. She moaned around me, the vibration ripping through my spine. One hand cupped my balls while the other braced on my thigh; her breasts pressed against my stomach, nipples dragging with every bob of her head.
I tangled my fingers in her dark hair—not guiding, just holding on.
She pulled off with a wet pop, breathing hard. “I want you inside me.”
She rose, positioned herself above me, and sank down slowly. Her pussy was hot, slick, gripping me inch by inch. Those wide hips rolled once she bottomed out, grinding in a slow circle that made me groan.
She rode me steadily—breasts bouncing, long nipples tracing arcs in the air. I reached up, cupped them, thumbs brushing those thick tips. She gasped, clenched around me harder.
“Harder,” she whispered.
I thrust up to meet her, hands sliding to her ass, fingers digging into firm flesh. The sound of skin on skin mixed with the waves. Her breath hitched, thighs trembling.
She leaned down, breasts against my chest, mouth finding mine in a hungry kiss. I felt her tighten, pulse, then shatter—inner walls fluttering, a low cry muffled against my lips.
That was all it took. I drove up once more and came hard, spilling deep inside her while she rocked through the aftershocks.
We stayed like that for a long minute, breathing together, the sun hot on our skin.
Finally, she lifted her head, lips curved in satisfaction.
“Still think this beach is too quiet?” she murmured.
I laughed, still buried inside her. “Not anymore.”
